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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455347">Don't Change for Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErniesGoingtotheValley/pseuds/ErniesGoingtotheValley'>ErniesGoingtotheValley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stardew Valley (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>CW car accident mention, Dream Sex, F/M, Kissing, Love Triangles, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, cw alcohol, cw death mention, cw depression, cw mental health, cw suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:53:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>63,159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455347</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErniesGoingtotheValley/pseuds/ErniesGoingtotheValley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace is starting over, escaping the city to take over her grandfather‘s farm. She’s learning about the land, making new friends, even finding romance under the stars of her small town.</p><p>So why can't she leave her past behind -- or stop thinking about the man in the corner of the bar?</p><p> </p><p>*UPDATES EVERY WEEKEND</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lewis/Marnie (Stardew Valley), Maru/Penny (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sebastian/Player (Stardew Valley), Shane &amp; Female Player (Stardew Valley), Shane &amp; Player (Stardew Valley), Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Character(s), Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Female Character(s), Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>333</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. New Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grace pressed her forehead against the bus window, letting her eyes unfocus as the trees flew by. The cool window felt good against her flushed face, and she sighed.</p>
<p>The trip should only have been about an hour, but the bus was late leaving Zuzu City. And with the bypass tunnel closed, and the old bus was having trouble banking the narrow roads and turns of the mountains bordering Stardew Valley. Grace despised car rides, and she felt wave after wave of carsickness wash over her.</p>
<p>Zuzu City...as the bus took a sharp turn, she caught a glimpse in the driver’s rearview mirror of the piercing skyscrapers and smog choking the sky behind her. It gave her a moment of comfort to know that no matter what was ahead, it couldn’t be worse than what was behind her.</p>
<p>If she closed her eyes, she could still see her Joja Corp cubicle in perfect clarity. The office space was like a long, dark dungeon, lined with chalky gray cubicle walls. She could still hear the monotonous clacking of a hundred keyboards and the distant ringing of a dozen different office phones. She shuddered.</p>
<p>Before she knew her last day would be her last, it started like any other. She badged into the building and rode the packed elevator with her fellow gray-faced interns. A stack of paperwork sat in the middle of her desk, some sliding off onto the floor. She collapsed into her chair, her chest hollow.</p>
<p>Her boss stuck his head in. “Grace!” he barked. “You’re late again.” She tried to explain the metro delays, but he cut her off. “This is your final warning. Don’t forget just how replaceable you are.”</p>
<p>The comment had sparked a memory: for the first time in a long time, Grace thought of a small red farmhouse and the smell of damp earth in the summer sun. “Miss Gracie,” her grandfather had croaked from his rocking chair perch. “You are just one of a kind.” She’d looked up at the old man on the porch contemplating the sunset. “You are so dang special, you can do just about anything you set your mind to.”</p>
<p>Grace wanted to feel like that forever, Suddenly, it felt like she was waking up for the first time in years. The gray cubes and the stacks of paper were meaningless. She reached deep into her bottom desk drawer and pulled out an envelope she always knew would be the pull-string on her parachute the day she started free falling. In a few shaky, handwritten sentences, her grandfather’s letter gave her the resolve to quit her job, pack up her apartment and hop on a creaky bus to Stardew Valley.</p>
<p>The driver tapped the brakes at the sight of an upcoming hairpin turn, and Grace’s head jerked back and forth and knocked into the window. She groaned loudly and rubbed her forehead.</p>
<p>The young man in front of her turned and gave her a withering glare. Grace furrowed her brow and glared back.</p>
<p>“Keep it down,” he barked. His brown eyes were red and puffy. Grace eyed his wrinkled shirt and grubby zip-up, the stubble around his dimpled chin, and his stuck-up curly hair. His handsome face was betrayed by his hangover.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes, flipped her wavy brown hair off her shoulder and leaned back in her seat, arms crossed in irritation. He turned back around, and she flicked a gum wrapper at the back of his head. It landed in his hood, and she smiled.</p>
<p>The clouds outside briefly parted, and with a start Grace realized the bus was headed downhill. The trees looked greener and taller, and the sun started to trickle through the foliage and dance in the dewdrops on the bus windows.</p>
<p>The last time Grace was in Pelican Town, it was to bury her grandfather. She was ten, and clung to her mother’s hand the whole memorial.</p>
<p>When she was growing up, she always remembered the last bump in the road before the bus stop. Grace closed her eyes and felt the bus hop and her stomach drop: at last, she was here.</p>
<p>“Everybody off!” hollered the bus driver as she slammed the brakes one final time and opened the bus doors with a squeal. The man in front of Grace heaved himself up, stretched his back, and looked over his shoulder at her. She glared into his chocolate eyes, and his eyebrows scrunched as if to ask a question -- but he turned, carrying no bags, and staggered off the bus and walked down the hill into town.</p>
<p>Grace pulled her ragged suitcase off the top rack, called a “thank you” to the gruff blonde driver, and stepped off the bus. Almost immediately she heard her name -- “Gracie!”</p>
<p>A mustached man in a flat cap and suspenders bustled over through the thinning crowd. “How you’ve grown!”</p>
<p>A memory flickered -- a younger man with a fuller mustache reading at her grandpa’s memorial. “Lewis?”</p>
<p>He chortled. “That’s ‘Mayor’ Lewis, Gracie!” He swept her up in a breathless, bone-crushing hug. “I’m so pleased you wanted to come back. I know your grandfather always hoped--”</p>
<p>“Thanks for waiting for me, Mayor Lewis,” she interjected.</p>
<p>He extended his hand to take her suitcase and she obliged. “Do you remember the way, dear?” Grace shook her head. Lewis pointed left, his hand following a small sign planted at a jaunty angle labelled “Pelican Town.” “That’s the way into the town center. Just a brisk walk away from your new home. That’s where you’ll find the store, the saloon. the clinic, and most of our townsfolk.”</p>
<p>Lewis gestured right. “We’re going to take the road less traveled.” Grace spied a smaller, jauntier sign: “Hillcrest Farm.” He started down the path. Grace took a deep breath and followed.</p>
<p>The whole walk, Mayor Lewis chattered on. “You’re going to love the house,” he crowed. “Just brace yourself a little. Your grandfather was notoriously stubborn -- the man wouldn’t spend a dime on himself, not even on a proper kitchen.” The trees jostled in the wind, like they were laughing with Lewis. Grace could see they thinned out ahead. “If you ever need anything, you can count on us. Many of us old folks remember your grandfather, you know.”</p>
<p>Grace looked at him in surprise and he grinned widely underneath his mustache. “Oh yup,” he continued. “We’re a tight-knit group. You don’t get a community like this in the big city, miss Gracie.” He puffed his chest out with pride. “In the valley, we take care of our neighbors.”</p>
<p>A picture-perfect small town. “Do I have any neighbors out here?” asked Grace.</p>
<p>Lewis nodded. “You’re on the fringe of the town line. But if you head north, you’ll find a path to the carpenter’s. That’ll be Robin and her husband, Demetrius. And if you head south on your farm, you’ll find a shortcut to the local ranch.”</p>
<p>“That’s Marnie’s place, right?” Grace had a fuzzy memory of a warm, jovial face framed by fluffy auburn hair.</p>
<p>Mayor Lewis’s neck suddenly looked flushed. “Yup, that’d be Marnie.” The trees parted. “Look ahead -- there’s your new home!”</p>
<p>Mayor Lewis trudged ahead, but Grace stopped in her tracks. The house was like she remembered, but the paint was peeling and the porch clung to the building at a steep angle. The path was treacherous, covered in loose rocks and errant branches, and the land was thick with vines, weeds and invading saplings. Was she cut out for this?</p>
<p>She shook her head at herself and jogged up to Lewis, dodging the mess in her path. He fished a key out of his trouser pockets and opened the door.</p>
<p>“I’ll leave you to it, Gracie,” he said. “If you need a thing, my number’s on the fridge. I’ll check in once you get yourself settled.”</p>
<p>Lewis grabbed her in another zealous hug, then held her shoulders and looked at her closely. “The fresh air will be good for you,” he declared. “A new start.”</p>
<p>She waved him off as he took his leave back down the path. Only once he was out of sight did she peer inside the house -- fortunately, Lewis must have taken it upon himself (or maybe upon his local friends) to spruce the place up for her. She’d imagined there’d be more dust after almost 15 years. </p>
<p>The home was sparse -- two rooms, no decorations on the walls -- and the living area was marked by only a threadbare couch and an ancient tv. The “kitchen” was a sink and a microwave, an electric stove, a mini-fridge with a list of emergency and local numbers taped on, and a tiny shelf with a few essentials, courtesy of Lewis. Shuddering, she looked into the bedroom. Just a simple wooden bed in an otherwise empty room.</p>
<p>She sighed. Not at all like her apartment in Zuzu City. But there were worse ways to start a new life.</p>
<p>Grace spent the rest of her day unpacking the few things she brought and clearing the path back to the road to town of weeds and debris. At the least, she thought, she could make a quick escape if she botched the farming plan. By the end of the day, she sipped tea on her porch watching the sun set over her tangled, wild lands, and trying not to think about how hard she’s made life for herself.</p>
<p>But for the first time in a long time, when Grace threw herself into bed, she fell into a deep and pleasant sleep.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <i>Shapes, colors rushing over her. Scenes and sounds moving fast. Restless dreaming.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The picture changes: a man leans over her, whispers her name.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Suddenly he’s kissing her, his mouth is warm and his arms encircling her waist. She weaves her fingers into his hair, and as she pries herself away for air she catches a glance --</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>His cheeks are flushed under his stubble, his lips red above a dimpled chin, and warm brown eyes looking into hers. A dark curl of hair falls across his forehead.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He whispered her name, “Grace…”</i>
</p>
<p>*** </p>
<p>She awoke with a start in the night, sheets tangled, warm and gasping for breath.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a long first night in her new home, Grace finally jerked awake when she heard a loud knock at her door.</p>
<p>She tugged on pants and pulled her hair into a knot on top of her head, then answered. Marnie’s round, friendly face greeted her.</p>
<p>“Gracie!” she exclaimed, and pulled her into a tight hug. Grace gently patted her hands on Marnie’s back and stifled a yawn.</p>
<p>“We have a lot to catch up on -- and my goodness, your hair! Did I wake you? -- but first I have to ask you…” She breathlessly tugged a leash Grace hadn’t noticed before. “I know you must be so overwhelmed moving from Zuzu City into this old place, but I’m sure too you don’t want to be lonely, and I remembered how much you loved Brownie growing up--”</p>
<p>Grace smiled as she remembered Brownie, a gray-muzzled lab, curled up at her grandfather’s feet at night after a long day in the sun.</p>
<p>“--and I just thought, well--” Marnie tugged the leash again, “--you might enjoy a bit of company!”</p>
<p>A scraggly mutt peered out from behind her legs. One of his ears was flopped comically over and his nose twitched curiously. Grace let him sniff her hand before fixing his ear. </p>
<p>Marnie smiled. “What do you think? I brought all the supplies, don’t you worry about a thing--” Grace caught a glimpse on her porch of a dog bed, bag of dog food, chew toys and treats. She couldn’t imagine Marnie carried all this alone. “--but what do you think? Do you want him?”</p>
<p>Grace looked at Marnie again, suddenly realizing the genuine kindness of the gesture, and graciously accepted. Marnie beamed. </p>
<p>“You call me anytime if you have questions -- number is on the fridge -- and you stop by when you’re ready! I’m sure you remember the way,” she said with a wink.</p>
<p>And just like that, Marnie was walking south through the fields towards her ranch again, and Grace was waving goodbye with one hand and holding a leash in the other.</p>
<p>She named the mutt Rusty, and within an hour of simple training and a few dog biscuits, he was answering to his name and shadowing her around the farm. She burned off the rest of the morning clearing the wildlife from directly out front of the house -- her new companion steadfast by her side.</p>
<p>By noon, Grace had to admit to herself she needed to venture into town. The food Lewis had left her was disappearing fast.</p>
<p>After a quick shower, and with Rusty secured in the house, she started down the path to town.</p>
<p>Noticing her mailbox flag was up, she stopped and tugged out a small letter.</p>
<p>
  <i>Gracie -- </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I hope you’re getting settled and comfortable. The community is thrilled to have you here.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It would be a nice gesture to introduce yourself around town. Some people might be anxious to meet the new farmer.	</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>See you soon!</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>-- Lewis</i>
</p>
<p>She sighed and tucked the note in her jeans pocket before strolling into town. An assignment.</p>
<p>By the top of the hour, she found herself in the town center and feeling like she’d already met half the town: two moms, the friendly general store owner, a jock, a sweet blond skateboarder, a witchy-looking girl with purple hair, a redheaded schoolteacher and her two students, a pair of grandparents on a daily stroll, a dreamy writer and a grisly fisherman. When Lewis saw her, he gave her a friendly pat on the back and a “keep it up!” An eccentric blue-haired girl steered her into the local tavern, introduced the bar owner, and fed her salad and bread until she could hardly move.</p>
<p>Anxious and feeling sick of the spotlight, she fled town and started hiking north towards the mountains, dimly wondering if she’d be able to find the through-way to back to her farm. The sounds of the town fell away as the road got steeper and steeper -- soon replaced by the sound of the bubbling stream and birdsong. </p>
<p>“Farmer!” A strong-looking red-headed woman suddenly waved from behind the tree line. Grace stopped as the woman strolled over, axe in hand. </p>
<p>“I’m Robin, the local carpenter. Mayor Lewis told me you’d just arrived!” she said, eagerly grasping Grace’s hand in hers. “Have you met everyone in town yet?” Grace shrugged. “That must be exhausting. Let’s give you a break.”</p>
<p>Grace, grateful for Robin’s aggressive kindness, let the woman show her up the path and into her home, carved into the foothills of the mountains. Once sitting at the kitchen table with a tall iced tea, she finally felt herself start to relax.</p>
<p>Robin chatted lightly with her, telling her about the house she built herself. “Our house is in such a beautiful area, don't you think? I love the fresh air of the mountains.” Grace nodded politely, sipping her drink. “Have you met my family?” She shook her head.</p>
<p>Robin pointed into the next room. Grace leaned back in her chair and spotted a Black man and young woman her age working in what looked to be a household lab. “Demetrius, and Maru,” said Robin, gesturing to each. Demetrius waved enthusiastically, but quickly turned back to the frothy, overflowing beaker in front of him. Maru waved a gloved hand. Grace smiled shyly back.</p>
<p>“And you've met my son Sebastian, right?” she asked. Grace shook her head. “He lives downstairs. He's a little shy, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you if you're nice to him.” Robin winked. Grace nodded and finished her tea.</p>
<p>“Thank you for having me, Robin, but I think I should probably head out,” she said.</p>
<p>Robin smiled. “You're always welcome to visit us, even if you aren't shopping, you know. It can get pretty lonely up here in the mountains.” Grace smiled back then stepped back outside.</p>
<p>The cool breeze off the lake rustled the evergreen trees framing the family’s home, and Grace sighed deeply. She heard the click of a lighter and glanced left. A tall man stood just out of the sun, dragging on a cigarette.</p>
<p>After a minute he looked over and saw her. His eyebrows shot up -- she wondered if she surprised him -- but then he waved her over. She walked up and shook his hand. “You’re the new farmer, right?” he asked.</p>
<p>She nodded. “Grace,” she said, putting her hand back in her pocket. It was tingling from their handshake. He smiled down at her, a shock of black hair falling over his forehead.</p>
<p>“I’m Sebastian.” Of course -- Robin’s reclusive son. If she could give Robin any feedback, it would be that “shy” was the last word that came to mind. He towered over her, even leaning back on a tree trunk, and brought the cigarette to his lips. With his face illuminated by the ember, Grace couldn’t help but think: Yoba, he was hot.</p>
<p>“So, I have to ask,” he started. She looked wary. “Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”</p>
<p>Surprised, Grace laughed out loud, and he grinned back. “I took over my grandfather’s farm,” she explained. “Hillcrest Farm.” He nodded. “It was the only fresh start I could make after leaving my job in the city.”</p>
<p>His eyes lit up. Were they blue? Gray? Grace was captivated. “Zuzu City? You moved from Zuzu City...to Pelican Town?” She nodded. Sebastian shook his head and took another pull on his cigarette. “Why…” he trailed off.</p>
<p>She shrugged and he glanced away, looking through the trees towards the valley. After a minute, he asked, “What did you do in Zuzu City?”</p>
<p>She shrugged. “Joja corporate drone.” After a moment, she asked, “What about you?”</p>
<p>He smiled. “I’m a coder. I mostly freelance. Writing and hacking for a shit living.” He took a long draw from his cigarette, the ember lighting up his crystalline eyes. Gray, Grace decided. “Once I have the cash, I’m headed straight for the city. Getting out of this small town.”</p>
<p>Ambitious guy. He took a final pull on his cigarette before stamping it out. </p>
<p>“If you don’t have any plans tonight, Grace--” her breath caught when he said her name, “--then why don’t you join us for a little fun? Tell us more about yourself, city girl.” He gestured down the hill, and she saw a blond head of hair weaving up the path: the skateboarder. </p>
<p>Sebastian held out his arm jokingly, and Grace tentatively smiled and linked her hand through his elbow. He guided her back towards the house, stopping in front of the garage as Sam finally made it up the path, panting.</p>
<p>“Hey guys,” he puffed, clutching a stitch in his side. “Glad to...see you...up here...Grace,” he choked out. Sebastian laughed. Grace glanced over to him and noticed his broad shoulders and lean muscles, teased under his black hoodie and dark jeans. She swallowed hard.</p>
<p>“Come on, Sam,” he chuckled. “You still can’t handle a little walk in the woods?” </p>
<p>Sam flipped him off, then immediately slammed his hand to his mouth. “Oh sorry, Grace,” he said. She laughed.</p>
<p>“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said. Sam smiled, his cheeks still pink from the walk. A gentleman, she noted.</p>
<p>Sebastian looked over to her. “We were going to start our Friday evening with a few beers on the lake. Care to join?” He smiled crookedly. Was he flirting? Grace tugged on a lock of her hair and smiled.</p>
<p>Sam shot Sebastian a loaded look, but said nothing. Sebastian turned around and pulled an ice bucket filled with beer out from under the garage door. The trio strolled over to the lake, plopped down on the narrow dock, and clinked their drinks together before downing half their bottles in one go.</p>
<p>“Do you miss the city yet?” Sebastian asked Grace. She took off her sandals and dangled her feet in the cool lake water.</p>
<p>“It’s not the kind of place you want to miss,” she answered cryptically. Sam shot Sebastian a look like he should drop it, but Sebastian ignored him and leaned towards Grace.</p>
<p>“I can’t imagine giving up everyone you know, a whole city of promise, to move to a town you’ve never even seen before,” he said. “That must have been incredibly hard.” He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her face, and she looked up to his dark silvery eyes. He was being genuine. </p>
<p>“Well,” she replied with a cautious smile, taking another pull from her beer. “I actually have been here before. I used to spend my summers with my grandfather as a kid.” Sebastian smiled back at her.</p>
<p>Sam slapped his forehead. “I KNEW you looked familiar!” he exclaimed. He reached across Sebastian to grab her arm. “We played together -- our moms were friends. Do you remember? You were at the house, like, all the time.” She dimly remembered a boy with staticky blond hair.</p>
<p>She opened her mouth to answer when Sebastian shoved Sam’s arm back away roughly. Sam frowned and pushed him back. Gingerly, Grace edged back down the dock away from the two. Boys! This was only going to end one way. </p>
<p>Sure enough, taking the final sip of her beer, she heard the splash. Sam was sitting in the lake, fully drenched, Sebastian still confidently perched on the dock, and both boys were laughing. </p>
<p>Sebastian held his hand out to her for a high-five and she dutifully gave one. Sam splashed water at her in retaliation, then they cracked open three more beers. </p>
<p>By the time they finished the contents of the ice bucket, they were all standing knee-deep in the water trying to catch fish with their bare hands and cackling under the full moon.</p>
<p>Finally, Sam told them it was time to meet up with Abigail, and they staggered back to land. The walk back to Sebastian’s house was colder with the breeze on her damp legs, and Grace shivered. Sebastian set down the ice bucket in front of his garage and handed Sam a towel before pulling his hoodie over his head and handing it to Grace.</p>
<p>She stared at the sliver of lower stomach barely exposed by his t-shirt, and thanked him kindly for the hoodie. She tugged it on, grateful for its warmth and musky smell, and admired Sebastian’s toned arms.</p>
<p>Sam dropped the towel by the ice bucket and nudged them towards the path down the hill. The entire walk into town, Grace felt electric. Her buzz made her bold, and she let her right arm swing closer to Sebastian’s, hoping he’d pick it up. He looked at her a couple of times, but Sam kept his attention with constant conversation about Solarian Chronicles.</p>
<p>Once outside the tavern, Sam stepped right in, but Sebastian signalled for Grace to wait with him a minute.</p>
<p>“My sweatshirt looks good on you,” he said, stepping back to look Grace up and down. Her ears burned and she felt heat travel down her body. Sebastian put his hand on Grace’s arm and slid it down to her wrist. “I like talking to you.”</p>
<p>Grace laughed lightly. “I like talking to you, too,” she said jokingly.</p>
<p>He smiled. “I mean it!” he said, gently squeezing her wrist. “I don’t like a lot of people. And, I mean, the people in this town…” he sighed.</p>
<p>She smiled up at him, blissfully buzzed from the beer. She twisted her hand over in his to graze his fingertips. His eyes widened a little in surprise as she leaned up closer to his face. She was never this bold in her old life.</p>
<p>She wanted to throw her arms around him and let him carry her back to the farmhouse. She pictured his chest against his, with his hands on her hips, and she felt heat build in her lower stomach. She grabbed his hand tightly. “I don’t have any friends here yet. Maybe we can not-like-a-lot-of-people together.”</p>
<p>He laughed. “I'm glad you showed up here. I was starting to get bored. Now I feel a lot more energetic, believe it or not.”</p>
<p>Grace smiled. “Could it be the beer?”</p>
<p>Sebastian winked at her and pulled the tavern door open, standing aside for her to go first. “It’s you or the beer, and either way I want more.”</p>
<p>She stepped into the tavern with her head thrown back laughing, and almost tripped over her own feet walking in.</p>
<p>“Gus! A round on me,” crowed Sebastian. Gus grinned and started setting out glasses.</p>
<p>Grace saw a glimpse of blue hair and remembered the girl’s name from the afternoon. “Hey Emily!” she called to the barback with a smile.</p>
<p>Emily turned around and smiled back. “Hey, farmer Grace! How was your first day in town?”</p>
<p>Grace took her first step towards Emily before she caught sight of the gruff man standing behind her. He pulled his pint glass down from his stubbled face and gave her a strange look. She froze -- the man from the bus.</p>
<p>Emily leaned over the bar to try to entice Grace closer. “I see you’ve met Sebastian,” she whispered loudly. “What did I tell you? They don’t make them like this in Zuzu City.” She winked, and the scruffy man behind her shifted his eyes and lifted his pint glass to his face again. Grace felt an itch of irritation -- was he listening? -- and she conspicuously slid up to the bar far enough away that Emily would have to walk away from him, over to her. </p>
<p>“It’s definitely different,” she confided quietly to Emily. “Zuzu folks keep to themselves -- here, it feels like everyone knows me. Or at least they want to.”</p>
<p>Emily smiled warmly. “We don’t meet a lot of new folks here. I’m sure you’re not surprised to learn that you’re our biggest news in awhile.” She leaned in, and in a whisper: “The dating pool is small, so I can give you tips if you like.” She winked.</p>
<p>Grace smiled. “I’m not trying anything exciting, just need to make some friends.” She heard the clacking of pool balls and muffled conversation from the next room. “Sebastian invited me to play with them tonight.”</p>
<p>Emily nodded wisely. “They’re great, you’ll have fun. And Sebastian--” she gave a pointed nod to him as he laughed and pulled a hand back through his dark hair. “--he’s a real catch. Hot but kind, keeps to himself but has a generous heart. Barely dates. Abigail might be an issue--” Grace glanced at the purple-haired girl on the couch barely concealing her glances at Sebastian, “--but they’ve been over for years.”</p>
<p>With a shrug, Grace said, “I’m not trying to come between anything.”</p>
<p>Emily nudged her arm playfully. “You can’t date in Pelican Town without a little drama, it’s too small! But there are definitely options.”</p>
<p>Grace shot a quick glance over to the man in the corner -- Emily caught it. “You don’t...you’re not thinking about Shane, are you?” Her mischievous grin grew wider.</p>
<p>Grace felt a tug behind her navel. “No, I--”</p>
<p>“Hey Shane!” Emily called behind her to the gruff man, already on his next beer courtesy of Gus. “Have you met the farmer?”</p>
<p>He sighed and walked up to the bar. “Hello, farmer,” said Shane, toneless. He held out his hand and Grace quickly took it and released. He dropped his hand into his pocket, the other still holding the sweating pint glass.</p>
<p>Emily seemed to read this as a good interaction -- but Shane didn’t look at Grace even once. She felt the tug again in her stomach.</p>
<p>“Emily, when you get a chance…” muttered Shane as he retreated back to stand in his corner of the room. She smiled at Grace as she pulled out yet another pint glass and started filling it.</p>
<p>“That went well!” she whispered loudly. “He’s never that friendly.” Grace was surprised that counted as friendly. She looked past Emily and wondered if Shane looked even surlier than before. With a blush and the taste of beer on her tongue, she realized that she and Emily weren’t as quiet as she thought -- Shane definitely heard them chatting. She wondered briefly whether the tavern door muffled sound, too.</p>
<p>“Thanks Emily,” she said, ears burning. “I promise I’ll catch up with you later but I think I’ve kept Sebastian and his friends waiting too long already.” She pushed back her stool and stalked towards the pool room, where a young man with dark hair and a wide smile was waiting.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!! This is going to take a few turns before it's done :) Like comment subscribe and let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lessons Learned</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning sun shone relentlessly through Grace’s bedroom window and she groaned. Rusty nosed her hand, and she rolled over and pulled her pillow over her head in protest.</p><p>Her head ached. How much did she drink last night?</p><p>At the lake...then a few rounds at the bar...and Sebastian smiling crookedly with every new beer he handed her…</p><p>She groaned again. Too much. She drank too much.</p><p>Rusty nudged her hand again, impatient. She stood up and tugged on overalls, throwing her tangled hair into a foul-looking topknot. She eyed her clock on the way to brush her teeth -- 6am. Rusty cheerfully tagged along for her morning routine, oblivious to her misery.</p><p>Finally, with Rusty choking down his breakfast and her breakfast -- black coffee -- in hand, Grace stepped onto the porch and surveyed the land stretched before her. There were patches where she could see the ground -- evidence of her hard work the last few days. But today, she had to do what she came here to do: farm.</p><p>She tugged her phone out of her pocket and scanned her open browser windows. Back in Zuzu City, in the midst of packing her apartment and pounding a bottle of wine, she’d found a few farming get-started guides. Mommy blog after mommy blog, and sponsored articles by fertilizer companies. Grace squinted at her phone, then held it up in front of her view of her ragged, overrun property. Oh no... All the “before” pictures online were of neat, grassy suburban yards -- nothing resembling her wild lands. It was immediately clear that the bloggers could not help her. </p><p>“Fuck!” shouted Grace, throwing her phone onto the porch. Rusty jumped from his food bowl and looked at her in alarm. “It’s okay, boy,” she called to him inside, then slumped into the splintered rocking chair next to her.</p><p>Was this a mistake? Was she cut out for this? </p><p>Grace shook her head lightly. “It’s the hangover,” she told herself. “You’re not thinking straight.” Rusty trotted out to her, chipper and ready to start the day. She scratched his ear. “You think we can grow something green out here, bud?” He looked at her stupidly. She sighed and scratched his other ear. “Come on, boy, help me out.” </p><p>Where would she start? Tools? There was a crusty-looking toolshed behind the farmhouse, leaning at a dangerous tilt. Grace combed through the dusty boxes inside and emerged with a few treasures: a hoe, an axe, a pickaxe, a scythe and a badly dented watering can. </p><p>The last couple of days, when she cleared the path to the road and the land in front of the house, she’d used her hands to pry compliant weeds out of the ground and toss the debris aside. Equipped with real tools, she went on a murderous spree, destroying rogue plants and branches in her way.</p><p>Within an hour, she felt blisters burning her hands. “This is what I get for not buying gloves,” she called to Rusty, who was engrossed in a particularly crunchy stick. “You remind me to pick them up later, okay?” He looked at her and tilted his head. Grace barked out a laugh.</p><p>How did grandpa do this every day? She searched her memories: over the summers, he never complained about aches and pains. Well, maybe just not to her.</p><p>The ground was hard-packed -- but when she prodded it with the hoe, it peeled up to reveal dark, rich soil. “Maybe I have a shot, bud,” she called over to Rusty. She turned the soil in a small patch in front of her house under a large maple tree, then paused to survey her work, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and leaving a line of dirt in its path.</p><p>She looked back at the dog. “Now what?” </p><p>Inside, Grace couldn’t find a single seed. It probably didn’t occur to Lewis to leave her any when he prepped the house for her. And no doubt, anything her grandfather had stored would be dust by now. She grabbed her wallet and her phone to head to the store. Locking Rusty inside, she trotted down the path.</p><p>Outside the General Store, she felt her phone buzz. She pulled it out to see a text from Sebastian. <i>Hey, farmer girl.</i> Her cheeks flushed as she remembered Sebastian teaching her pool last night, his chest against her back with his hands guiding hers, and she quickly tucked the phone back in her pocket. No distractions!</p><p>Grace stepped into the cool market and headed straight for the countertop seed rack. Pierre grinned from behind the counter. “Welcome! If you're looking for seeds, you've come to the right place!”</p><p>Grace smiled gingerly and started thumbing through the seeds. “I’ll take...um…” The brightly colored packets all looked the same. What was easy to grow? “How about these parsnips and green beans?” she said, dropping the packets onto the counter. She saw a pair of gloves nearby and tossed them onto the pile, too.</p><p>Pierre nodded and rang them up. Grace dropped a few coins into his hand. “I'll also buy produce from you for a good price!” he added as she started walking out. “A little agriculture could really inject new life into the local economy!” Grace smiled and waved, and headed back towards her farm.</p><p>With her new seeds planted and freshly watered, Grace tossed her tools back into the shed, showered up, and wolfed down leftover pizza for dinner. Her phone buzzed -- another text from Sebastian. One word this time: <i>Bar?</i></p><p>She smiled and texted back: <i>There in 10.</i></p><p>Grace was walking on a cloud. Her first real day’s work! And Sebastian was waiting for her at the door of the bar, wearing his sweet crooked smile, and holding the door for her.</p><p>After they got settled with a couple of beers -- and with Sam and Abigail flanking them -- Grace couldn’t help but brag about her first full day farming. “...and I could squeeze all the seeds I bought into the plot I cleared. I’ll probably end up with hundreds of parsnips and green beans,” she shared, glowing. Sebastian smiled sweetly, but let Sam pull him into a sidebar about the band.</p><p>Abigail gave Grace a friendly elbow in the side. “That’s great news,” she shared earnestly. “It sounds like you’re a natural!” Grace smiled, grateful for the kindness.</p><p>A man with wild, dark curly hair, sporting a well-worn hoodie, stood quietly in the corner. When Grace spoke, his eyes unwillingly flickered to the conversion at the bar. He sipped his beer, eyebrows furrowed, lost in thought.</p><p>----------------------------</p><p>The next day, Grace watered her patch and checked the ground closely for any signs of seedlings.</p><p>A friendly face appeared from the south path on the farm. “Gracie!” the figure called, waving its arms. Grace squinted into the harsh spring sun -- then eagerly waved back: Marnie.</p><p>She scooped Grace into a grand hug. “How are you getting along, Gracie?” Marnie asked. Grace led her over to the porch steps and brought out a cup of coffee before sitting next to her. </p><p>It was a relief to sit down with Marnie after so meeting many nosey townsfolk (Marnie commiserated). They chatted about Grace settling in and how Rusty was adjusting. Marnie rubbed the dog’s stomach as he lounged on the porch next to her, and the topic turned to farming.</p><p>“It’s tough,” Grace admitted, “tougher than I thought.” She gestured to her small patch. “But I think I’m getting the hang of it!” </p><p>Marnie smiled vaguely and sipped her coffee. “What are you growing, sweetheart?”</p><p>Grace pointed to a large pile of empty seed packets. “Parsnips and green beans,” she said proudly. </p><p>Marnie didn’t react. She took a slow sip of her coffee. Grace suddenly felt uneasy.</p><p>“Gracie, honey,” Marnie started carefully. “Did you check the guidance on the packets? Or a farmer’s almanac?” Grace’s stomach dropped. She shook her head.</p><p>Marnie reached over and picked up a couple packets, turning them over and pointing at the instructions listed. “You need a bit more sun on these, honey,” said Marnie. “And I think they need more space apart.” Grace looked at her seed patch in horror: it was suddenly obvious how abysmally small the area was, and she could see the seeds were planted all over each other. “You also may want to separate your crops a bit more, dear,” continued Marnie gingerly. Grace racked her brain. Which side of the plot had she planted the beans on?</p><p>She felt nauseous, her face flushed. What had she been so proud of yesterday? She wasn’t cut out for this. </p><p>She suddenly remembered in flashes her grandfather’s rich, vibrant farm. Every crop had its own slice of real estate. The beans were in a neatly spaced row, and the root vegetables were widely spread and marked. It was so simple. So why didn’t she know it? </p><p>Marnie placed a hand gently on her back, but Grace pushed it off and put her head in her hands. “Marnie, I think I need a little space,” she choked out past the lump in her throat. Marnie didn’t budge.</p><p>“Sweetie, it’s okay. You don’t have to get it all right the first time,” said Marnie in a soothing tone. She put her hand back on Grace’s back, and Grace didn’t move this time. Marnie rubbed small, soothing circles. “This is new for you,” she continued quietly. “Let’s fix this up and get you started here on the right foot.” Grace let Marnie guide her up.</p><p>Marnie grabbed the hoe and quickly tilled a new, larger patch of soil while Grace dutifully pulled weeds and stones out of her way. From her front apron pocket, Marnie revealed fresh green bean and parsnips packets (how did she know? Grace wondered), and coached Grace where to plant the seeds. When they finished and surveyed their work, Grace recognized the difference: the new patch had obvious mounds where seeds were planted, plenty of space to grow, and much more sun exposure. </p><p>She smiled weakly at Marnie. “Thank you for your help,” she said.</p><p>Marnie threw an arm over Grace. “It’s what I’m here for, Gracie.” She beamed, and after a pause, Grace leaned into the hug. Once they were settled back on the porch, glasses of water in hand, Marnie asked, “Didn’t your grandfather leave you any notes? Journals, or books maybe?”</p><p>Grace remembered the boxes of books in the shed. “Yes but -- I’d have to poke around.” She gestured to the tilted shed.</p><p>Marnie blanched. “You shouldn’t be in there. It doesn’t look safe.” Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe my nephew should...yes, I’ll send him up. He’ll take care of it,” said Marnie.</p><p>“Your nephew?” asked Grace.</p><p>“My nephew Shane has been staying at my place the last few months,” said Marnie. “He helps me out with the chickens, so I'm not complaining.”</p><p>Shane! Grace blinked quickly. </p><p>“You already knew that though, I’m sure!” said Marnie. Grace blinked at her again, confused. “Hasn’t he said hello yet?”</p><p>Grace shrugged, ears burning. “I’ve bumped into him in town,” she muttered.</p><p>Marnie gave her a long look, then shook her head. “Yup, you’re going to just stay right here, and I’ll send Shane along to give you a hand.”</p><p>Grace shook her head quickly. “No Marnie, really --”</p><p>But Marnie already had her phone in her hand, quickly texting, and Grace could see it was too late. She groaned internally.</p><p>They sipped their waters on the porch, watching a curly head of hair slowly hike up the path towards the house. Shane stopped in front of the porch and rubbed his puffy eyes, then roughly scratched his dark stubble.</p><p>“What’s the emergency, Aunt Marnie?” he grunted, jamming his hands back in his pockets. “It’s my day off.” His chocolate eyes flashed to Grace’s. Her throat went dry and she took a long sip of water while Marnie answered.</p><p>“Look at that shed, Shane!” She gestured behind the house. “Can you believe this girl was going into that thing? Doesn’t it look like it could just tip over in a good breeze?” Shane rolled his eyes. Marnie glared, so he licked a finger and held it up, pondering the breeze. Grace choked a laugh back in her waterglass.</p><p>“Get on with it, Shane,” said Marnie in a sharp tone. “You go get the boxes she needs out of there.” He sighed and gestured to Grace to follow him to the shed.</p><p>She leaned on the doorframe while he stepped into the building. “What do you need from this dump, anyways?” he asked gruffly, coughing on the dust.</p><p>Grace pointed at a stack of boxes against the wall, under a blanket of cobwebs. “My grandfather’s journals and books,” she said. Shane groaned loudly, then started clearing the boxes off with his sleeve.</p><p>“Get out of the way, farmer,” he warned, heaving the first box out the door. She watched him retreat into the shed, surprised to see his zip-up tugging against his broad shoulders and strong back.</p><p>The time went by in relative silence, apart from Shane’s grunts and grumbles hauling the boxes out and dragging them into her house. At some point, Marnie excused herself to pick Jas up, and Grace desperately wished she could have stayed to buffer Shane’s grouchy aura.</p><p>Eventually, Grace had what she needed from the shed, and she slammed the doors shut. The building creaked ominously, and Shane pulled her back by the arm.</p><p>“Don’t go in there,” he said, hand still on her arm, watching the building sway. “Marnie was right. It’s a deathtrap.”</p><p>Grace shook her arm out of his grip and crossed them. “Thanks for the help today.”</p><p>Shane shrugged and started walking towards the southern farm path, then stopped in front of the porch. He studied the small, ragged plot, then the new, neat plot. “Your handiwork?” </p><p>She eyed him carefully. “Marnie helped,” she admitted.</p><p>Shane nodded, looked at the plots again, then looked back to her, reading the worry in her face. After a minute, he grunted, “They’ll be fine. Everything out here grows fine.” Then he walked away.</p><p>Grace watched Shane retreat from sight. She snapped a picture of the new plot and sent it to Sebastian. After a few seconds, he texted back: <i>Looks awesome, farmer girl!</i> She smiled and retired inside for the evening.</p><p>Over a glass of wine, she pored over her grandfather’s notebooks, amazed at the detailed notes he’d kept. His dusty almanacs were heavily annotated with his shaky writing. Grace could see how easy it would be to manage more plots of spring crops, where she’d grow different plants, and she started to feel giddy.</p><p>Out of one of the journals fell an old photograph: it was a young Grace, her grandfather and her parents, taken one of the first summers she came up here. She smiled mournfully and taped it to her fridge before falling into a peaceful sleep.</p><p>Outside, barely poking above the topsoil, the first small green seedlings greeted the morning sun.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The First Buds of Spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a really fun one to write! The gang plays a round of Solarion Chronicles. Sam is a lovable goofball. And...things are starting to happen between the farmer and Sebastian ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning when Grace found her first plants poking through the topsoil, she shrieked and danced through the garden. She watched her babies passionately, watering and weeding with care, and continuing to clear her land between check-ins. Marnie strolled by once a day those first few days for a cup of tea and to offer more sage advice. Rusty, her constant companion, would poke her ankles with his nose helpfully and take long naps in the sun on her porch.</p>
<p>Things were good.</p>
<p>And she felt a real spark with Sebastian.</p>
<p>They texted day and night -- even though she saw him every day. He’d stop by the farm on his way to or from town, or she’d meet him and his friends at the bar. Last night, he’d walked her home, and in the warm light of the porch in the cool spring breeze, she’d felt his eyes wander up and down her body. Before she could make a move, he’d said goodnight and headed up the hill to the mountains. She should’ve kissed him then -- she kicked herself that night for failing to -- but she wished he’d kissed her, too.</p>
<p>Grace stood and cracked her back with glee. She’d finished clearing a neat square for her next set of crops, and was ready to call it a day. Inside, she set out Rusty’s dinner and scrubbed her face clean before checking her phone. No new texts.</p>
<p>Maybe she should swing by? He was always popping up at the farm. “Couldn’t hurt to use the same move on him!” she said to Rusty, his tail wagging. </p>
<p>She shut and locked her door and started up the hill path without a second thought. At the house, Robin eagerly let her in and pointed her to Sebastian’s basement bedroom. She knocked and the door, unlatched, swung wide open to reveal Sebastian -- and Sam.</p>
<p>“Hey Grace!” called Sebastian from the table. “Sam and I were about to play Solarion Chronicles.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” said Grace, face reddening. She started retreating back to the stairs. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called--”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you join us?” Sebastian interjected. “It’s better with three players anyway.” Sam looked up from his complicated board setup and grinned.</p>
<p>Grace pulled the door shut behind her then eased into the seat next to Sam. “You should know,” she warned, “I’ve never played anything like this.”</p>
<p>Sebastian smiled at her from across the tiny card table. “We’ll help you,” he promised, then quickly shuffled the deck. “Okay, here we go...let me draw the scenario card.” He scanned the card. “It looks like today’s quest will take us into the Necromancer’s Tower, to try and reclaim the Solarion Staff from the clutches of Dreadlord Xarth.”</p>
<p>Sam nodded solemnly, then handed Grace the character options. She read the instructions and character descriptions carefully. “I’ll be the wizard,” she announced, handing back the guide. Sebastian’s eyes twinkled with approval.</p>
<p>“I’ll be the warrior, then,” he said. “And that makes Sam the healer.” Sam groaned.</p>
<p>“Let’s begin,” he said in a deep, mysterious voice, scooping up the dice from the center of the table and casting them with a flourish. </p>
<p>Grace caught on after the first few rounds, and soon her corner of the table was stacked high with gold and silver coins and spell cards. Sam pushed his copper coins around dismally.</p>
<p>“Come on, you’re in my party, just lend me a few silvers and let’s get moving!” he begged.</p>
<p>She refused, snatching a few coins back away that Sam had just pawned. “It’s your own fault! You should’ve known not to steal that ale.” </p>
<p>Sebastian peered over his master guide. “She’s right,” he said. “You don’t have a high enough sneak to get out of jail. What do you want to do?”</p>
<p>Sam sat quietly for a moment, hand under his chin, pondering the board and the character sheet with the jailkeeper’s stats. “How’s my conversational skill?” </p>
<p>Sebastian’s eyebrows raised. “High, of course,” he answered. </p>
<p>Sam pushed two life crystals forward to barter and picked up the dice. “Then I am rolling...for seduction.”</p>
<p>Sebastian’s eyebrows were disappearing into his hair. “Who are you seducing? Your cellmate?”</p>
<p>“No,” crowed Sam, before blowing on the dice in his hands and shaking them vigorously. “The jailkeeper.” </p>
<p>Grace and Sebastian stared. “Sam,” started Sebastian. “The jailkeeper has a wife and three children. I don’t think he’s looking for romance with a sticky-fingered healer from out of town.”</p>
<p>Sam gleefully pointed at the character sheet. “They’re his wife’s kids, not his. The marriage was arranged after her first husband died. He spends every night at the pub, and most nights doesn’t come home. And his only ‘friend’ is the hunky elf barkeeper.” Grace and Sebastian craned their necks to check the character sheet.</p>
<p>“That’s seriously thin, dude,” said Sebastian.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you have me curse the jailkeeper instead?” asked Grace, pointing at her stacks of spell cards. “Or blow a hole in your cell wall?”</p>
<p>Sam gave the dice another confident shake. “Nah, I’m gonna win him.”</p>
<p>Sebastian rolled his eyes. “If you lose, you’re at less than a quarter life. You won’t last a second at the tower gate.” Sam nudged his life crystals forward again. “Oooookay,” said Seb. “You’ve got to get at least a 19 to pull this off.”</p>
<p>Sam nodded and tossed the dice into the center of the board. They rattled and tumbled and finally landed…”Twenty-one!” cried Sam.</p>
<p>Grace cackled as Seb’s face turned red and he spun the tale. “The jailkeeper is on his last rounds before his usual nightly drink at the pub. You call to him, and he stops in front of your cell.” Sebastian glanced at Sam, who’s beaming in anticipation. He sighs and continues. “The jailkeeper is overwhelmed looking into your eyes. Your allure is too strong.” Sebastian rubbed his eyes before continuing. “He unlocks your cell, for some reason.”</p>
<p>“My allure!” cried Sam. Sebastian rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“For your allure. And you walk out. And before you go, you share a passionate kiss.”</p>
<p>Sam smiled and leaned back in his seat. “Everyone loves a healer.” Grace laughed again, and the party continued on their quest.</p>
<p>By the time they reached the Necromancer’s Tower, they’d gone through a case and a half of Joja Colas and the sun had been down for hours. Grace’s character, armed to the teeth with spells and enchantments, led the charge into the tower, with Seb and Sam close behind. </p>
<p>“Skeleton army attack!” cried Sebastian, flinging figurines onto the board and flipping quickly through his guide.</p>
<p>Sam threw his hands up and looked at Grace, who flipped over her defense cards. “We shield ourselves!” she called back.</p>
<p>Sebastian reached a page towards the back of the guide, too excited to notice the lock of dark hair falling into his face. “You blocked the attack -- and it gave you enough time to attack back! Your stats beat theirs tenfold.” He swept the skeleton figures off the table and they clattered to the floor. “We run on!”</p>
<p>The team stormed the Tower sewers, and Sam found a shortcut to the Dreadlord Xarth’s quarters. </p>
<p>“‘You fools!’” roared Sebastian in his best Dreadlord impression. “‘You’ll never take the staff from me!’ And the Dreadlord casts ‘shadow beam!’” He looked to Grace. “What’s our move, wizard?”</p>
<p>Grace snatched up a die in a panic. “Roll for shields!” she cried, flipping over three defense cards. Only an 8! </p>
<p>Sam clapped his hand to his forehead. “We’re doomed!”</p>
<p>Sebastian looked over the shield cards, then back at his manual. “Sam and I collapse, we’re horribly injured, but you dodged it and survived. What’s your next move?”</p>
<p>She looked at him in surprise. He could’ve split the hit between the three of them -- why spare her? His dark eyes looked into hers with earnest.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay…” she muttered, flipping through her cards. She pulled a red one from the bottom of her spells deck. “I cast…’pure bolt.’”</p>
<p>Sam gripped the table and Seb dropped the master guide onto the board. “You need a 40 to cast. A 40! One perfect roll!” Grace nodded, scooped up the dice and shook them gingerly, looking at the boys. She blew on the dice for luck, then offered them forward. Sam blew then leaned back and covered his eyes in mock fear. Sebastian glanced at him then looked at Grace, locking eyes while blowing gently into her hands. She felt his foot slide forward under the table to brush hers. Her heart jumped and she leaned forward until their knees touched, then until his knee was just inside of hers. </p>
<p>She gulped and tossed the dice. They rolled, then landed, on a perfect…</p>
<p>“Forty!” she and Seb screamed. Sam threw his hands in the air, and all three leapt up from the table. “The Dreadlord is dead! We won the staff!” They huddled and jumped around, laughing and cheering. </p>
<p>Heavy footsteps quickly came down the basement steps, knocking plaster dust down from Seb’s ceiling like snow. Demetrius slammed the door open. Sam jumped back from the huddle, but Grace kept one arm wrapped around Sebastian.</p>
<p>“It’s a weeknight, boys--ah, everyone,” said Demetrius in a stern tone. “It’s too late for you to be yelling down here. Maru’s got to be up early for work. You should know that by now.”</p>
<p>Sebastian seemed to shrink back under Demetrius’s words, but held his glare. “I told you, it was campaign night. We talked about this.”</p>
<p>Demetrius’s arms stayed firmly crossed. “We did. But it doesn’t give you license to keep us up all hours of the night like this.”</p>
<p>Smaller footsteps quickly followed down the stairs, and Robin poked her face into the room. “Demetri, come back upstairs. Their game just ended. Seb’s guests are leaving.” Her tone was friendly but stern.</p>
<p>Demetrius gave one last long look at Sebastian, then started back up the stairs. Grace felt Sebastian’s core start to relax.</p>
<p>Robin gave them a little wave and shut the door again. They looked at each other, and Sam shrugged and picked up his backpack. “‘Til next time,” he said with a small salute before skirting out the basement door into the cold night. </p>
<p>Grace looked up at Sebastian, suddenly realizing how alone they were. Her arm was still around his waist. His face was hard to read. She started to pull her arm away, but suddenly he’d lifted his and placed it around her as well.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry about that,” he said after a minute. “Not the best end to our night.”</p>
<p>Grace shrugged. “We won, didn’t we?” He looked down at her in surprise.</p>
<p>“You were really good, you know?” She nodded. “And you really never played before?” She shook her head. He turned to face her fully.</p>
<p>“That was fun, right? We should play that again sometime,” he said. She smiled and stepped a hair closer to him. She could feel his warm breath on her face.</p>
<p>“Sometime,” she breathed. “Anytime. We can...anytime.” She tilted her head and held his gaze.</p>
<p>“Sure, Grace,” he said, transfixed by her mouth. “Whatever you want.”</p>
<p>He pulled her closer by the waist and kissed her softly. He started to pull away, but Grace wove her hands into his hair and pulled him back into her. She crushed her mouth against his and he groaned deeply. She felt it rumble in his chest, his body pressed against hers, and she angled her hips closer before kissing him again, and again, and again.</p>
<p>He groaned again and put his hands on her hips, his long fingers digging into her as he pulled her into him. She licked into his mouth, and ran one hand down the front of his chest. Yoba, he was strong. His heart pounded under her hand.</p>
<p>It has been a long time since she had been held with this much care. Grace let herself sink into Seb’s arms, and he gladly carried her weight while his lips explored her neck. Each small kiss resonated deep into her body, and by the time he found his way back to her mouth, she was desperate. Grace’s body was flush against Sebastian. </p>
<p>She gasped for air, pulling back, and looked into his half-lidded eyes. His mouth was red and his cheeks flushed. She leaned forward and bit his bottom lip. He said quietly. “You really surprise me sometimes, farmer girl.”</p>
<p>“Just you wait, valley boy.”</p>
<p>Grace let herself fall into his arms and into a deep, passionate kiss. Outside, the stars winked and sparkled over the valley.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Blossoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: NSFW content in this chapter! All tags added to fic tags. Will always give a heads-up in the notes. Thanks for reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, just as the sun crept over the mountains over the valley to greet the day, Grace felt a small smile creep up onto her face.</p>
<p>She replayed last night’s events. The kiss. The many kisses. She tugged the sheets up over her head and wiggled her toes.</p>
<p>He wanted her. He cared for her. Grace felt a weight off her shoulders that had been perched there for years. She’d been lonely for so long, she forgot how it felt to be safe in someone’s arms. She closed her eyes and played the memories back.</p>
<p>Rusty put one paw up on the bed and made a pointed sniff, but she didn’t budge. He scrambled onto the bed and sniffed her hair, then dug his nose into the blanket, searching for her face. Grace gave a small snort and poked her head out. He started licking her furiously, collapsing on the bed. She gave in and scratched his stomach.</p>
<p>“One moment of peace is too much, huh?” she said to Rusty. He cocked his head. “Yeah, okay, you’ve waited enough. Breakfast time.” He was up before she could finish the sentence.</p>
<p>She set out his breakfast -- kibble and half a can of food -- and started her own. Halfway through her scrambled eggs and black coffee, her phone buzzed. It was Sebastian. <i>Good morning :)</i>. Grace’s heart fluttered. </p>
<p>His smile shone through the dark as she’d walked away from his house late last night, trudging up the mountain path back to her farm. He was wonderful. And he cared for her.</p>
<p>But did he expect more last night? What did she want, anyways? Grace didn’t need her grandfather’s almanac to know that the seeds of doubt took root in the mornings after. She had to decide what she wanted. Before she opened any doors that were hard to close.</p>
<p>She flipped her phone over and made a mental note to answer him later. After washing her plate and mug, she stepped into the hazy morning sun, Rusty hot on her trail. She tried to stay focused. She thought about the days getting longer. She thought about the weeds she was pulling. But she mostly thought about Sebastian.</p>
<p>She stabbed her shovel into the ground a little too hard and hit a rock. The pang wobbled all the way up her arm. She dropped the tool, grabbed her shoulder and groaned.</p>
<p>“Need a hand?” a voice called from behind the house. A tall, dark and handsome man popped out. Sebastian.</p>
<p>“Maybe two,” she called back in a wavery voice, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. </p>
<p>He strolled up and plucked the shovel off the ground with a grin. “My client canceled their project. It’s a bitch I’ll lose the pay. But it means today, I’m all yours.” She noticed he was wearing older, dirtier clothes than usual. Curiously, she stuck a finger through a hole in his shirt. He laughed.</p>
<p>“Why are you here?” She didn’t mean to sound so blunt.</p>
<p>“I was just thinking about you. I wanted to see you.”</p>
<p>Grace looked up at him. The sun was behind his face and she had to squint. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and gave her a slow, soft kiss.</p>
<p>“I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he murmured. “Grace, I…”</p>
<p>She flushed. “Seb, I can’t right now,” she said quickly, looking at the spread of tools, dirt and seeds around them.</p>
<p>He pulled back and opened his arms, gesturing to the land around them. “Don’t worry, farmer. I really am here to help!”</p>
<p>She scrunched up her nose. “You think you have what it takes?” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah, girl. These aren’t for nothing.” He flashed his toned arms in a fake cocky way, posing dramatically until she cracked a smile.</p>
<p>“Can you picture me on a farm?” he asked, posing with his foot on a tree stump and the shovel on his shoulder. “It seems ridiculous, but I’ve been thinking about it lately.” He swung around to switch his pose, but slipped in mud and fell on his ass into the dirt.</p>
<p>Grace barked a laugh, her worries forgotten. “Let’s get you up, dummy.” She tugged his hands and helped him stand again. She hopped on her toes and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. “Lots to do today.”</p>
<p>And just like that, he fell into line and patiently helped her with her chores. Sebastian was a lot stronger than Grace was, and it was a relief to have someone to pull down boxes from tall shelves and to carry heavy debris. Sebastian let her passionately explain how to plant a few different types of seeds, their watering needs and her new labelling system. Granted, his eyes were totally glazed over, but Grace gave him points for pretending to listen.</p>
<p>With his help, she was done an hour early. Grace made them vodka lemonades with fresh mint, and they sat quietly on the porch, admiring their handiwork and basking in the sunset. Their fingers were loosely laced.</p>
<p>Sebastian set down his drink, held her hand tighter and tugged her arm towards him. Grace willingly stood and let him pull her into his lap. He wrapped his long arms around her and lay his head on her shoulder. They breathed in sync for a few minutes, sharing their warmth.</p>
<p>After a time, he spoke. “I don’t go out enough.”</p>
<p>She looked pointedly at his burned arms and face, wrinkling her nose. “You could stand to get a little more sun.”</p>
<p>“I’m always holed away in my basement, writing up some bullshit code, counting the days ‘til I’m out of here.” He looked at Grace and ran a finger over the freckles on her cheeks. “Sunkissed farmer girl.”</p>
<p>She held him a little tighter. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad to be out here.” She paused a moment. “I can’t get stuck inside after those years at Joja. I’ll never work at a desk again.” Sebastian kissed her cheek, right where she knew she had the largest splash of freckles.</p>
<p>“I usually stay inside, but I do go to the beach now and then,” he confessed. “Pretty much only when it's raining, though. For some reason, staring off into the bleak horizon makes me feel... I don’t know. Like it's worthwhile to keep pushing on, I guess.”</p>
<p>She studied his gray eyes. They were shallow, shining pools of light. She imagined they were the color of a stormy sky over the beach.</p>
<p>“If I don’t stay moving, I’ll lose my mind,” she started. He looked up at her. “I need to feel the sun burning my skin. Or the dirt under my nails. I need to hear the birds yelling at each other. I need my plants to need me.” She looked away.</p>
<p>“You should know,” she continued slowly. “I’m alone. And I love being alone. But I hate it too.” The wind rustled the trees. “I want to open up, Seb. I really do. But the more I let the world in, the more it reminds me why I walked away in the first place.”</p>
<p>He gave her a small squeeze. “Will you let me in?” </p>
<p>She met his eyes. Without a word, she kissed him, maybe a little too hard. Sebastian folded under the pressure, letting her lips tell him what she needed.</p>
<p>The sun crept below the horizon, and in the dim porch light, Sebastian let his hands move to her hips. He gave a gentle squeeze, and she slowly ran her fingers up and into his hair. They kissed slowly, lost in the moment.</p>
<p>Sebastian pulled himself up to stand, still holding Grace in his arms. He stepped over Rusty and through the doorway, walking to her bed while she gently kissed his jawline. He gently lay her on the bed and lay down beside her. </p>
<p>He wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer and kissed her deeply. They took their time, exploring each other’s bodies and lips, immune to the time passing.</p>
<p>Eventually, Grace slipped her fingers under his shirt, and he tugged it off before sitting her up on his lap to pull hers over her head. They tugged and pulled one by one until they lay together naked, arms and legs tangled.</p>
<p>“Do you want me?” asked Grace in a soft whisper. They were quiet and slow, kissing and holding each other, the heat between them dim.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said Sebastian, pressing his lips to her ear.</p>
<p>“Will you want me in the morning?”</p>
<p>“Of course.” </p>
<p>“Then will you stay with me tonight?” </p>
<p>He pulled back, eyebrows up in surprise, and his voice was soft when he said, “Yes.” </p>
<p>They kissed, letting their hands wander lazily up and down each other’s bodies. After a time, Grace spoke again.</p>
<p>“But I don’t know what I want.” </p>
<p>Sebastian touched his forehead to hers, his hands stilling. “We’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to want anything.”</p>
<p>She sighed into his arms. A few minutes passed until she spoke again. “I think this is what I want. For now.”</p>
<p>He pulled her closer with one arm and the blanket up with the other. The heat of the moment evaporated, and they lay together in relaxed peace until sleep took them.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>
  <i>The farm, rolling with a thick mist. Grace was on the porch, the sunset casting sharp shadows across the land, and strange colors illuminating the lush greenery and the nebulous sky.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A shock of curly hair from the southern path. With a blink, he was closer. And with another, he was in front of her on the porch.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>The colors were like a kaleidoscope around him. His brown eyes had her spellbound.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>One more blink, and they were in bed. His strong arms were on either side of her. His hoodie and shorts were abandoned on the floor. The sunset cast wild colors through the bedroom window.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>She welcomed the warm pressure of his body over hers and moaned.</i>
</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Grace,” whispered a voice shaking her awake. She sat up with a start, then felt herself pulled back down gently. Sebastian looked at her curiously with silver eyes, a lock of black hair over his forehead. She nudged it back in place.</p>
<p>“You were dreaming,” he said. His cheeks looked pink. “You made noises. It sounded…”</p>
<p>Grace flushed, then felt a chill when she realized what she was dreaming about...and next to someone else.</p>
<p>“It sounded like it was about us,” Seb finished. She looked up at him with some surprise. So she didn’t say a name? Seb licked his lips. “Do you…”</p>
<p>Grace threw herself into his arms without thinking, kissing him furiously and with some relief. She felt damp between her thighs.</p>
<p>Seb kissed her softly, then a little harder, and suddenly his arms held her a little more tightly. His breath sped up, hot on her face, and she could feel him pressed against her thigh. He cupped her breast, massaging firmly while licking into her mouth, then pinching her nipple before heaving himself onto his elbows over her.</p>
<p>“Oh Grace,” he whispered, face buried in her shoulder, biting and sucking her neck. “The sounds you made...what you do to me.” He moved to kiss up and down both sides of her neck.</p>
<p>She was soaking wet and aching with need. Sebastian kissed one nipple then the other before pulling one in his teeth.</p>
<p>“Ow!” she gasped. “Seb--”</p>
<p>He pulled back before she could finish. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, kissing her nipples again in apology, then losing himself in kissing around her breasts and down to her belly button.</p>
<p>Grace propped herself up on her elbows. He kissed down the inside of her left thigh, all the way to her knee, before kissing back up. Just before he met her center, he moved to the right thigh, kissing down and back to the top. His lips were dancing on her soft skin, and she wanted to scream from the anticipation. She stared down at him until he met her gaze.</p>
<p>“Ok?” he asked.</p>
<p>Grace nodded. Seb kissed into her, starting softly before he became too eager and moved hard. His lips pressed and sucked while his tongue brushed her clit up and down, until Grace couldn’t stay on her elbows anymore and fell back on the bed, panting. Her cheeks started to burn and she felt herself beading with sweat.</p>
<p>Sebastian gently pushed a finger into her then made a low sound. “Grace,” he said between kisses. “Are you this wet for me?”</p>
<p>She groaned. He gave her clit a firm lick while arching his finger and she gasped, arching her back.</p>
<p>“Are you?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she panted, completely at his disposal.</p>
<p>“Yes, what?”</p>
<p>“It’s for you.” Her fingers gripped the sheets. “It’s for you.” He pushed one more finger in and she gasped again.</p>
<p>Then Seb went to work. He centered himself over her clit and kept a kissing and licking in a steady rhythm, matching pace with his fingers inside her. Grace writhed and twisted, heat building in her stomach and her chest until it choked her.</p>
<p>“Please…” she begged. He continued passionately, and she gasped and gasped until she fell in, exploding with a cry and shaking through her whole body. Seb dutifully kept his hand and tongue in place until she came down from her climax, then pulled himself over her.</p>
<p>He gave her a soft kiss, his face still wet, and she returned one. His tip was poised at her entrance, but he was waiting for her. Grace pulled her hand into his hair and dragged his face into hers, and at the same time pulled her hips up to meet his.</p>
<p>With a kiss, Sebastian slowly pushed in, so slow it made her ache, and Grace cringed. It had been a long time since her last.</p>
<p>Seb stopped once his hips were flush with hers, until he filled her completely, and he kissed her again, and again, and again. She let him until she couldn’t stand it and gave a small shudder. He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Slowly,” he promised. She nodded, and he started moving.</p>
<p>So slowly it was agony. They were careful with each other. He moved so gently and with such care that she had time to adjust, and then her adjustment turned to want. Grace ran a hand down his back and gave his hips a small tug. He picked up his pace, and when she kissed him she saw the sweat beading with effort. </p>
<p>He was still too slow. She needed more. Grace pushed him over and neatly flipped to sit on top, looking down at his lean, toned chest, hint of stubble, and silver eyes that flashed with the change. She held eye contact while she slid him in, and then firmly sat back into his lap. He groaned and sank his fingers into her soft hips.</p>
<p>She closed her eyes and set her own pace. Grace rode him while he guided her hips, face tense with concentration. The minutes were marked with their sharp breaths and shakes and shudders. He hit something deep inside her with every thrust, and she felt heat pooling in her stomach. She let a moan escape her lips, and it was all Sebastian needed.</p>
<p>He flipped them again so she lay on her back and he leaned on his arms, cradled under her back. He bit her jaw while he fumbled to enter her. Once he did he slammed in, choking back a desperate noise, and starting a needy pace. Grace made little cries with each thrust, welcoming the ache and the tension building inside her. Her nails carved rivers up and down his back. The pain brought him closer to the edge, and his kisses grew wet and sloppy.</p>
<p>“I… I’m--” he choked with small and shaky thrusts, then one final push. Sebastian’s arms were shaking and he collapsed on her, catching his breath. Her release was smaller the second time, so she cradled his head and stared up at her ceiling, wondering at the feeling of him still inside her.</p>
<p>At last, he pulled himself off of her and threw himself back onto the bed. He panted for a few more seconds, then seemingly came back to his senses.</p>
<p>“Oh Grace,” he whispered as he pulled her to him. “Wow.” He buried his face in the waves of her hair. She let herself melt into him, and he pulled the sheets up over their cooling skin.</p>
<p>“Wow,” she breathed in agreement. She rolled away from the damp spot on the bed, fit her curves neatly into the spaces in his body, and let sleep start to creep into the edges of her vision.</p>
<p>As her consciousness faded, she remembered the night they met, a bright moon and a cigarette ember casting playful light through the trees by the lake. She remembered a crowded bar. And the man hidden in the shadowy corner, now hiding in her dreams.</p>
<p>The darkness rushed in and sleep overtook her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Homecoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry I'm a little late posting this update -- more coming this weekend!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the first few weeks in Stardew Valley, Grace thought every limb was going to fall off her body. Her shoulders and arms ached, and her legs were shaking at the end of every day. The skin she left exposed to the cruel spring sun burned to a crisp, peeled, and turned into a furious tan. Her feet always hurt, and she had new blisters every night that turned to tough calluses the next morning.</p>
<p>But at the end of her first month, beaming with joy, she walked into Pierre’s general store with a full basket of fresh grown parsnips for sale.</p>
<p>She earned a few coins more than expected from Pierre, and was browsing the seeds when she heard the front door creak open. She turned around and caught a glimpse of brown, curly hair -- and quickly turned back to the seeds. Pierre had gone to the back room to restock, leaving just the two of them in the store.</p>
<p>Not eager to experience yet another winning interaction with Shane, Grace grabbed a few packets at random, dropped her coins on the counter, and started for the door.</p>
<p>Before she made it, Shane stepped into her way. “Hey farmer,” he said gruffly.</p>
<p>Her ears burned. “Hi, Shane.”</p>
<p>He looked at her for a minute, and she wondered at his warm brown eyes. They were the friendliest thing about him. </p>
<p>“How’s the...uh,” he started, scratching the back of his head. “How’s the farming?”</p>
<p>She pointed at the basket of parsnips on the counter. “It worked out. Everything I planted grew. My first plot was just a bit tough to...well, you saw it,” she finished lamely. </p>
<p>Shane smiled a little, and Grace was amazed to see the years fall off his face. “You’ll have a hell of a time with the beans,” he said. After a pause, he added, “Let me know if you need anything from that shed. It really is a deathtrap.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Shane,” said Grace, rolling her eyes. The corners of his mouth tugged at a smile. She eyed the high cheekbones under his chocolate eyes, the soft stubble on his strong jaw, and quickly looked away before he could see her blush. Self-consciously, she rubbed at her nose, still peeling from sunburn.</p>
<p>The door dinged, as Sebastian and Sam pushed it open, laughing. Sebastian called over to Grace and started walking over. Shane’s face dropped. He cast her a quick look, muttered, “See you around,” then slunk off towards Pierre’s small frozen foods display.</p>
<p>Sebastian threw an arm around Grace. “Farmer girl!” he crowed. “Cashing in on those parsnips, I see.” She grinned up at him. </p>
<p>Last night, Sebastian brought over a growler of cider from Gus’s tavern and helped her pack the parsnips up. Grace’s cheeks flushed as she remembered the sweat beading on Sebastian’s neck, and the flat of his stomach peeking from under the bottom of his shirt when he lifted the pallet onto her porch, and the steamy kiss under the watchful moon. She quickly looked away and rubbed her nose again.</p>
<p>Sam cut in, carrying chips and Joja Cola. “Ready to rock?” he asked Sebastian. Sebastian nodded, then ruffled Grace’s hair. She swatted his arm and smoothed it down anxiously. Sam smiled and waved. “See ya, Grace.”</p>
<p>Sebastian followed Sam to the counter and called back to her, “Catch you later!” Grace grinned and stepped outside -- running headfirst into Marnie.</p>
<p>“Gracie! How lovely to run into you,” she said and put a loving arm over Grace’s shoulder. “Come, sit down -- let’s catch up.” </p>
<p>Grace let Marnie steer her to a small bench behind a few hedges in the town center. Marnie clucked and ooh-ed at her burns and scrapes, and started pulling salves out of her tote and pushing them onto Grace. All the while, Marnie chatted with Grace about the farm and her progress, gently sharing advice every few minutes.</p>
<p>“And how are your parents? I’m sure they miss you,” she asked. A small knot tied itself in Grace’s stomach.</p>
<p>“No, they don’t miss me much,” she lied, pinching her thigh from inside her shorts pocket. “They’re happy just getting pictures of the farm.” Marnie seemed satisfied -- Grace sighed. She hoped this town could be a fresh start. Maybe it was less fresh with friends of the family.</p>
<p>Marnie leaned closer. “So how are you doing, getting around meeting folks? Have you caught up with my Shane?” Something in her tone changed.</p>
<p>“With Shane?” asked Grace blankly. Marnie looked guilty.</p>
<p>Grace realized with a start that it was no coincidence that Marnie was lurking outside Pierre’s. Did she put Shane up to talking to her?</p>
<p>“He said hi when I saw him in the General Store,” said Grace.</p>
<p>Marnie looked satisfied -- and Grace hoped that was the last of what she had asked Shane to do.</p>
<p>Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she tugged it out to see a text from Sebastian. <i>Your place tonight?</i> She smiled down at her phone, and looked up in time to see Marnie giving her a knowing glance. This town!</p>
<p>Marnie put her hand on Grace’s knee. “You should know,” she said carefully. “My Shane isn’t the most open fellow, but you give him some time and he’ll warm up.” Grace leaned back a little. Why is Marnie pushing Shane on her?</p>
<p>Marnie picked up on something in her face. “He’s actually quite glad you’re back, but you didn’t hear it from me,” she confided with a smile. Back? “He asks about you...don’t tell him I said that though! He thinks he’s subtle. He was hoping you were getting on okay with the dog, telling me tips and pointers to tell you. He’s excellent with animals,” she finished proudly.</p>
<p>Grace felt thoroughly confused. “I’m sorry Marnie,” she said. “But have I met Shane before I moved into Grandpa’s place?” </p>
<p>Marnie gave a full-bellied laugh. “How could you not remember, Gracie? You played together just about every darn day of summer.”</p>
<p>It struck Grace that it was naive of her ever to think this would be a fresh start. Of course she grew up with the locals. Of course Shane -- grouchy, gruff, irritable Shane -- was a childhood fixture. She couldn’t get away from this guy.</p>
<p>“I can’t really remember,” she said honestly. “I don’t have many pictures from when I was a kid.”</p>
<p>“Oh goodness, I’ve got plenty,” shared Marnie. “I think I’ve got a few of you, too. Come on, let’s take a look.” She tilted her head towards her ranch and they started walking together.</p>
<p>On the way, Marnie filled her in: Shane’s father raised him in a suburb of Zuzu City, but dropped him at Marnie’s in the summers for some “real-life experience,” as he called it. (Marnie’s tone was sarcastic, but she looked wistful as she remembered.) Marnie’s brother wasn’t the fatherly type, so she made sure Shane’s summers were fun and carefree. Being neighbors, of course, she and Grace’s grandfather would stick the two of them together, switching caregiver duty day-to-day so they could keep up with their work.</p>
<p>In Marnie’s living room, surrounded by walls plastered with family photos, the women sat and flipped through an overstuffed photo album. Marnie pointed out her own parents, her brother and his late wife, baby pictures of Shane, early pictures of her ranch, pictures of the girl Jas -- with so much love in her voice it hurt. Grace desperately wished she had a Marnie of her own who could keep her family’s memory alive, but she felt a hole in her heart when she thought about it, and comforted herself by leaning gingerly against Marnie’s shoulder over the album.</p>
<p>“And here,” Marnie chattered on, “was Sam’s eighth birthday party.” A blond boy on rollerskates with a bloody scrape on his arm grinned at the camera. Next to him was a short, lanky girl with wild, wavy brown hair, smiling boldly and showing off a missing canine tooth. Her grandfather sat nearby on a lawn chair, looking content but weary. Grace gently touched the picture. This was exactly how she remembered him.</p>
<p>Marnie nudged her finger left on the picture. Behind Sam, glumly wearing an oversized helmet, was a slightly taller boy. He was very thin, with a dimple in his chin made more apparent by his frown. His dark curly hair stuck out of the bottom and edges of his helmet.</p>
<p>Marnie explained, “Shane was a couple years your senior. You two had plenty of fun, but I think Sam was a little too excitable for him.” Grace smiled, remembering they both work at Joja Mart and certain that Sam was still too excitable for him. She made a mental note to ask Sam for stories when she saw him at the bar on Friday.</p>
<p>Grace was curious. “What happened after grandpa passed away? Did Shane stay with you?”</p>
<p>Marnie opened her mouth to answer just as the door slammed open. Shane loudly stalked through to the kitchen, jamming a plastic bag into the freezer and snatching a cold beer out of the fridge.</p>
<p>“Shane!” called Marnie. He turned towards the living room, eyeing Grace over his beer can. “Come say hello, we were just catching up.” Credit to Marnie, her smile remained fixed in place, despite the hostile waves rolling off of Shane.</p>
<p>Grace leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “You knew me before I moved here,” she stated. He nodded slightly, a curl falling over his forehead.</p>
<p>She realized: in his sneakers and shorts, gridball t-shirt and blue zip-up, he was dressed almost identically to the picture of him at Sam’s birthday. Talk about arrested development. But she also noticed how his shirt pulled tightly on his stomach, and how his shoulders hunched like he wanted to shrink away. He didn’t stand as tall as he had in Pierre’s.</p>
<p>Shane looked her over for a long moment before he raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “You followed me around every summer like it was your job.”</p>
<p>The hair on her arms prickled and her face felt warm. She tugged on a loose lock of hair. “Guess you don’t have to worry about that now,” she joked with a small smile.</p>
<p>He turned his gaze to his beer, lost in some private thought. His face was unreadable, but his frown lines were back. “No,” he said slowly. “Guess I don’t.”</p>
<p>Shane slipped into his room and closed the door quietly. Grace felt her stomach drop. What was that? </p>
<p>Marnie smiled warmly. “He’s not usually that friendly,” she whispered. Friendly? Grace couldn’t get a read on this guy.</p>
<p>She gave Marnie a long hug, then headed out back towards her farm. As she started up the path, she glanced back at the house. She thought she saw a curtain drop, but couldn’t say for sure.</p>
<p>Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. <i>Dinner?</i> She smiled, all worries forgotten, and texted Sebastian back. <i>Come over now.</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Fork in the Road</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heads up, some NSFW content in this chapter! And also some verbal arguing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sebastian almost beat her home. She opened her door to find him beaming, standing on her porch with his arms full of groceries. Grace barely stopped herself from throwing her arms over his neck, and instead stepped aside to let him in.</p><p>“You won’t believe this chicken,” called Sebastian. “It’s a family recipe, I promise you’ll love it.” Grace grinned and cast her mind to the stack of boxes behind the couch. Did her grandfather keep family recipes? </p><p>Sebastian kept her busy by pointing her to chop, grind, slice, or fry. She giggled when he snatched the salt out of her hand, or corrected her abysmal dicing. When she snuck a noodle out of the pan to sample, Seb swatted her butt with the wooden spoon before scooping her up in his arms for a messy kiss. Grace cackled madly and made a second pass for the pan, daring him to get her again.</p><p>Eventually, they sat at her creaky table and folding chairs with small plates of herb lemon chicken and broccoli on linguini. Sebastian scooped up a bite and grinned. “I told you,” he crowed. “I’m a far better cook.” After just the first bite, and grimacing at the memory of her own burnt chicken from their last date, Grace was forced to agree.</p><p>They chatted as they chewed, the radio buzzing in the background, Seb rambling about his favorite Zuzu City bars and dives, while Rusty panted weakly under the table and nosed around their feet for scraps.</p><p>The other night, Grace and Sam had teamed up at pool to dramatically defeat Sebastian and Abigail to the cheers of the other bar patrons. Robin and Demetrius had parted from the dance floor to heckle Sebastian whenever he’d missed his shots. Their cheeks were pink from wine, and they laughed like he’d been in on the jokes, but Grace saw Seb’s spine stiffen and his jaw clench. When Sam sank the eight ball and secured their victory, Grace threw her arms open, inviting Seb to step away from his parents to congratulate her. He’d given her a chaste kiss before burying his face in her neck. Over the back of his head, Emily beamed at Grace from the bar, and she’d smiled wisely back at her friend.</p><p>As Seb went on about his latest project and fed Rusty the last few pieces of his chicken, Grace admired the relaxed lean in his back, his sprawled lanky legs, and his sweet smile he shared only with her.</p><p>Sebastian helped her clear the table, and they set to work doing the dishes elbow-to-elbow. The song on the radio changed -- slow and sweet. Grace scrubbed at her frying pan and let her mind wander, all the way back to Marnie’s, wondering what life had done to that glum boy in the photo with helmet hair and a dimpled chin.</p><p>Sebastian elbowed her. “Come on, slowpoke,” he laughed. “I think it’s clean already!” Grace looked down at the pan in her hand with surprise. Sebastian snatched it from her.</p><p>Grace shook herself out of her daydream. “Maybe if you weren’t so sloooww to rinse and dryyyyy,” she said, dragging out her words and flicking soapy water in his face. Sebastian grinned playfully.</p><p>“Oh, so I’m the slow one!” He tossed his hands up in the air in mock defeat, letting water drip down his toned forearms and elbows, onto his shirt and the floor. “Well, if I’m so slow, I should just get out of your way,” he said, taking a dramatic step back from the sink. Grace rolled her eyes and started scrubbing the next pan.</p><p>Then she felt a pair of damp hands encircle her waist. “Seb,” she warned. “I don’t think that’s exactly out of my way.” He pulled himself closer to her and kissed her neck. She shivered.</p><p>“Oh no, Grace,” said Sebastian. “Now you’re free to wash the dishes exactly as fast as you want.” He held her waist a little tighter, one hand wandering up to cup her breast. He squeezed gently. Grace’s heart started racing.</p><p>He pulled her closer to him, and she could feel he was already getting hard. “You can go as fast or slow as you want,” he whispered, lips grazing her ear. His breath was warm and she felt heat building in her stomach.</p><p>Grace turned around to face him. “I don’t think you want this to go fast,” she said back in a low voice. She reached up to brush his hair off his forehead. Sebastian’s eyes twinkled, and he caught her hand and kissed the palm. She leaned in and his lips brushed hers gently, then returned, more eager.</p><p>Grace put her hand on his cheek then moved to grip the back of his neck. He pulled her tighter and kissed her hard. He teased his tongue into her mouth, and when she reciprocated he groaned, deepening the kiss and sliding one of his hands down her back. </p><p>She felt heat building in her stomach, between her legs, and pushed closer to him. He was hard against her hips and she suddenly wanted him desperately. Like he’d read her mind, Sebastian swiftly lifted her up and lay her on the couch. “Are you good?” he asked breathlessly as he planted one arm on either side of her. Grace nodded quickly and he brought himself down over her on the couch, lowering his body against hers until they were flush. Sebastian’s lips found her mouth, and then her jaw, and soon her neck.</p><p>Grace’s heart raced. She dragged her nails up the back of his arms and he started kissing her collarbone. One of his hands roamed under her shirt, grazing her soft stomach before finding her breast. He nudged under her bra and started to roll her nipple between his index finger and thumb.</p><p>She moaned and he moved back up her neck, biting and sucking on the left, then on the right. Grace wiggled her hips so their pelvises lined up perfectly. She started to roll her hips to grind against him, and with every roll she’d make a small sound, and he’d give her neck a sharp bite. She felt him twitch under his jeans. Grace’s heartbeat skipped and she ached with need.</p><p>Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. Grace popped her head up over the back of the couch and stared.</p><p>Another knock.</p><p>She untangled herself from the couch, nearly face-planting on the floor. She looked at Sebastian, his lips red and his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. He took her hand and tugged. “Ignore it,” he whispered. His voice was ragged and desperate.</p><p>She pulled her hand away, then leaned over and firmly kissed him. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered in his ear, then stood up. She ran her eyes over his lean body and tight jeans, then wiggled an eyebrow. “Don’t move an inch.”</p><p>Grace could feel her cheeks were ruddy and her neck was a mess. She pulled on a sweater to hide her neck, tugging the collar up, then opened the creaky wooden door to find herself face-to-face with Shane. Ugh.</p><p>His brown eyes met hers, and he quickly looked away. “Hey farmer,” he said. “I was just, uh… I was talking to Marnie--”</p><p>Rusty chose that moment to jam himself between Grace and the doorframe to furiously lick at Shane’s hands. He laughed in genuine surprise and squatted down to pet him.</p><p>Grace was apprehensive, but stepped back to let Rusty join Shane on the crooked porch. He ran circles around Shane, and Shane let Rusty nip at his hands as he teased him and scratched his ears and hips. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Shane looked kind of happy. Grace leaned against the doorframe and uncrossed her arms slightly.</p><p>“So can I help you?” she asked. Maybe she was a little too blunt. Shane looked at her with his laugh still frozen in his eyes. She realized with a shock that he really was handsome, his hand helplessly correcting his wild hair in the evening breeze, and his chocolate eyes glowing in her porch light.</p><p>But as he slowly stood up, his dark cloud also came back down, until he was at his full height and wearing his full grimace. Grace remembered Shane was wearing the same outfit as the boy in the photo album, and realized that now he was even wearing the exact same frown. The corner of her mouth twitched to smile, and Shane caught it.</p><p>“What?” barked Shane.</p><p>“I should ask you!” Grace replied, spreading her hands comically. “It’s dead late, Shane. Why are you lurking on my farm?”</p><p>He pointed at Rusty. “Calling animal control on him, obviously.” Rusty licked Shane’s outstretched finger. “Look, he’s trying to eat my hand.”</p><p>Grace rolled her eyes. “Yeah, he’s so vicious. He’ll probably tear my throat out.” </p><p>He raised his eyebrows. “It happens. Especially if you’re starving him.” </p><p>“Starving?”</p><p>“Yeah. As in, not enough food.” He raised an eyebrow. “You know, to be a farmer you have to actually, well, farm.” He gestured at Grace’s ragged, misshapen vegetable plots.</p><p>“The farm’s doing fine!” Come on, he’d seen the parsnips today at Pierre’s.</p><p>“It looks like shit. Have you even started yet?” He put his hands on Rusty’s cheeks and tugged them down in a mock frown. “‘Get some fertilizer from the ranch, Mom! Marnie’s got extra. Then your crops will really take off.’”</p><p>“Is that an offer from Marnie or Rusty?”</p><p>“Same difference. You’ll never make a profit if you don’t get things going here though.”</p><p>Grace rolled her eyes again. “Okay, so maybe your aunt left Rusty here with me to eat me. Spare me the indignity of fucking up my grandfather’s farm.”</p><p>Shane shrugged and scratched Rusty’s ear again. “Thank Yoba. She’s doing us all a favor, then.” His voice was dry, but Grace could see the crinkles at the edges of his eyes.</p><p>Grace tugged her hair behind her ear and checked her sweatshirt was still sitting high on her neck. “Well, if that’s all...” she said, signaling Rusty to go back inside. He obeyed grudgingly, looking back at Shane, and rebelling by standing only just inside the doorframe. Grace sighed and Shane cracked a shy smile.</p><p>“Well,” said Shane, digging into his hoodie pocket and pulling out a pack of dog treats. “If you do want to survive, these are great for training. Dogs go nuts for them.” Grace looked down and sure enough, Rusty was sniffing up at the bag. She took it from Shane gingerly. Their fingers brushed and he hastily put his hand in his pocket.</p><p>“Alright,” said Grace, surprised. “Well, thanks. And I’ll swing by for some fertilizer this week.” Shane looked at his sneakers and nodded before looking back up at her. His eyebrows scrunched up. Were his cheeks pink under that dark stubble?</p><p>“Don’t mention it. Aunt Marnie’s idea.” Shane kept his eyes locked on hers for another minute, even as a breeze passed between them and blew locks of Grace’s hair in her face. She admired his dark curls jostling in the wind as she brushed her hair back off her face. His hand twitched, but he kept it jammed inside his hoodie pocket.</p><p>“Well,” Grace continued cautiously. “If I live to see tomorrow morning, I’ll need a wheelbarrow from the shed. And I always make too much coffee anyways.”</p><p>They let the invitation sit there for a moment. Finally, Shane nodded, and Grace’s breath caught. She shook herself. </p><p>“I’ll stop by before my shift at Joja,” he said. After another long pause, he said, “Otherwise, you know where to find me.” He jerked his head back towards the southern farm path.</p><p>Grace eyed him curiously. His eyes were clear. Was he sober?</p><p>She shrugged, her arms crossed again. The breeze was cold on her bare legs under her shorts, and the heat was evaporating from the conversation. “Sure thing.”</p><p>Shane’s eyes glittered. “Well, ‘night then,” he replied. He leaned down to pet Rusty goodbye then froze. Grace followed his eyeline to the two wine glasses on her table. Her heart dropped in her chest.</p><p>Shane tensed and stood up quickly, nodded to her, then stepped back off the porch. Grace watched his figure retreat into the dark before pulling the reluctant Rusty into the house and closing the door.</p><p>She tossed the dog treats onto the counter. Sebastian was up from the couch and stared at her with a strange look. Grace walked over and pulled him into her arms, regretting the interruption.</p><p>“What an asshole.”</p><p>She looked up at him in amazement, not sure if she’d heard him right. She only then recognized the look in his face as anger.</p><p>“What?” she asked in disbelief.</p><p>“He’s an asshole.” Seb was glaring at the door.</p><p>Grace gently pushed back from his chest. “Seb,” she said. “Shane wasn’t being rude to me. It’s fine.”</p><p>Sebastian shook his head. “Like hell it is.” </p><p>Her hands twitched against his chest. “He’s just like that.”</p><p>“Just...like that?”</p><p>“Yeah, we were joking, Seb.”</p><p>Seb’s jaw twitched. She realized much too late that it had been a bad idea to chat with another man on her porch while Sebastian lay waiting for her just inside the door.</p><p>Seb asked sharply, “What was he even doing here, Grace?”</p><p>She ran the interaction back in her mind. It was fine, right? It was fine. “He was dropping off some dog treats.” Shit, she sounded too defensive.</p><p>“What?! Fucking weird.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“It’s late.” Seb shook his head again, like he was trying to clear his mind of some terrible persistent thought. “Probably just wasted, on his way back from the bar.”</p><p>“No.” Grace’s voice was suddenly sharp. “That’s not fair, Seb.”</p><p>“Oh come on, Grace,” he answered, running a hand back through his hair. It sat limp on his flushed face. “You see him in the bar every night, just like I do.” </p><p>Her hair stood on end. Seb was right. But he didn’t have the right to say anything at all. She pictured Shane on the front porch but all that came to mind was the glum boy from Marnie’s photo album. “Seb, just drop it.”</p><p>He looked at her sideways. “Why did you invite him back? Did I hear that right?”</p><p>She threw her hands up, wishing he’d just drop it already. “Sometimes Shane gets stuff out of the shed for me. Marnie put him up to it. It’s no big deal.”</p><p>“If it’s not a big deal, then why didn’t you tell me? Grace, I’m your fucking boyfriend. I should be the one helping you.”</p><p>“Well, lately you haven’t, Seb! You don’t have time.” Her hands were up. Seb, just drop it.</p><p>“I’ve always got time for you, babe. Stop going around to the damn locals when I’m right here.”</p><p>“I’m not asking you for help. You’ve got your own job.” </p><p>“Shane has a job. And a hangover half the time. What good is he? Just fucking ask me, Grace.”</p><p>“It’s not your problem, Seb.”</p><p>“Is there something between you guys? Whiskey dick gives you something I can’t?”</p><p>“Seb! You’re just being jealous. Shane just helps me sometimes.”</p><p>“Fuck, Grace! If this shit is so hard you’ve got to ask the town drunk to do your chores, then you’ve got a real problem here!”</p><p>Grace’s eyes glared. A fire ignited behind them. “Seb, you don’t have a fucking clue.” Now her hands were in her pockets, and she pinched her thigh hard.</p><p>Sebastian was taken aback at her sudden fury. “Grace, I--”</p><p>“Seb, don’t pretend.” She pinched her thigh again, willing herself to stop but failing. Her voice was ice. “I like you, sure. You like me well enough. We’re having fun. But you couldn’t really care less about this stuff.”</p><p>She couldn’t be sure, but it felt like she was breaking her own heart. She wanted nothing more than to settle into Seb’s arms and cry until her tears soaked his shirt. She knew he wanted to be off the hook, too. She should’ve dropped it.</p><p>“Well enough? Grace, you’re so important to me.” Sebastian was looking stricken. “You have no idea.”</p><p>She ignored him and continued. “This is my life now. I’m really making something for myself here.”</p><p>He opened his mouth and she cut him off. “But no, you’re so excited to leave this town, you think it’s beneath you. That I’m beneath you! Or that Shane is beneath you. I don’t give a shit.” He was trying to stop her but she wouldn’t let him. “Rise above all of us, Seb. Rise up to your parents’ home on the mountain, or up to Zuzu City. Just get out of my house.”</p><p>“No, Grace,” he said in a shaky voice. “I know I came on strong. I feel unappreciated, you know, at home...but you make me feel...feel like I really belong.” He reached his hands towards her. She stepped away.</p><p>He continued. “I think about you all the time, Grace. I’ve never felt like this for anyone. I know you work so hard at this, and I don’t understand it. I just want you to be mine.”</p><p>“What a joke, Seb.” She threw her front door open and crossed her arms tightly.</p><p>Seb ran a hand through his black hair with anxiety. “You’re so important to...Can we--”</p><p>“Seb, please leave now.” Her voice almost cracked but she held it together.</p><p>“I just...okay, Grace.” He stepped out of the door and she slammed it behind him.</p><p>Rusty was hiding behind her bed by the time she threw herself in it. She lay still with her face in her pillow for a few minutes until she felt him licking her hand. She turned her head and looked into his wide eyes.</p><p>“Not a fan of conflict, boy?” she asked in a wavering voice. “Me neither.” He hopped up onto her bed and lay down next to her.</p><p>Her phone buzzed. <i>Grace you mean so much to me.</i> Then, another: <i>Can we just talk?</i> They were from Sebastian. She buried her face in her pillow again and stayed there for the rest of the night.</p><p>The next morning, eyes still puffy, she stepped outside holding two steaming mugs of coffee -- only to find her shed was open and her wheelbarrow already sitting in the dirt in front of her porch. There was no one in sight.</p><p>Grace stared at the wheelbarrow for a long moment. Then she dumped the extra coffee into a planter, stepped back inside and slammed the door.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Waves in the Sand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shane's two-heart event! So warning for alcohol for sure, and depression.</p><p>I sort of spiced it up a little bit. I'm always surprised at how early in the game it happens, because it's such a vulnerable side of Shane. I think for all fans it breaks our hearts a little bit. And I wanted it to show more care between him and the farmer. Hope you enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For the rest of the week, Grace threw herself into her farming. She let her phone die in the corner of the bedroom and didn’t bother looking for it again. Her companions each day were the blistering sun on her shoulders and the pup at her side. At night, she poured too many tall glasses of wine and watched from her porch as the moon cast long shadows over the southern path from her farm. She admired the moon’s companionship with the stars, but would go to bed before letting herself think about the company she wanted to keep. </p><p>Her independence used to fit over her shoulders like a snug blanket. These days, it was suffocating. The ache in her chest told her she was deeply lonely, but she told herself she was happier on her own, carving this new life for herself. </p><p>She couldn’t avoid town forever though, so on a steamy Monday spring evening, Grace wore her pride like a shield and dragged herself down to Pierre’s with a heavy load of beans and potatoes to sell.</p><p>She miraculously made it in and out of the General Store without a single interaction beyond the friendly exchange with Pierre and a polite wave to Evelyn, the sweet older woman who lived near the saloon.</p><p>Grace tried to start towards the northern trail back to her farm, the long way past the house in the mountains, but her feet took her to the southern road, towards the cut-through behind Marnie’s ranch.</p><p>Passing through the town center, she heard a call: “Hey farmer!” A girl’s voice. Grace stopped and turned.</p><p>Maru and Penny sat on a bench in front of the saloon, encased in shrubbery. “Come sit a minute,” said Maru, patting the seat on the bench beside her. Grace paused before joining them. Grace liked the girls -- they were both kind, welcoming, soft-spoken and didn’t seem half as nosy as some of the other villagers. Penny smiled slightly, and Maru grinned.</p><p>“How are you guys?” asked Grace. They exchanged a knowing look then looked back to Grace.</p><p>“We’re well,” said Penny. “Nice weather, isn’t it? Good for farming, I’m sure!”</p><p>Grace nodded again with a grin. “You should see the place -- it’s halfway decent, now that things are actually growing.”</p><p>“That’s wonderful, Grace,” said Penny earnestly. They chatted for a few more minutes about Penny tutoring the town kids, her mom Pam, and the hot weather finally signaling the start of summer.</p><p>Maru kept searching Grace’s face. Grace felt a drip of sweat down the small of her back. Probably the humidity, she told herself. Not the fact that she was sitting next to Sebastian’s sister. Who clearly had something on her mind. </p><p>“Have you been settling in okay?” asked Maru. “With the townsfolk, that is.”</p><p>“Oh sure,” said Grace quickly. “I’m so glad everyone’s as nice as you both are. I feel right at home.”</p><p>Maru smiled. “That’s good. I know Seb and his friends like you too. He’s really glad you’re here.” She raised an eyebrow.</p><p>Oh yikes. She knows about the fight. Grace swallowed.</p><p>“Yeah, Sebastian’s great,” she said slowly. Penny recrossed her legs. Did Penny know too? </p><p>Maru kept reading Grace’s face. “I know something happened between you guys,” Maru continued. Grace usually admired Maru’s directness, but was feeling less fuzzy about it now. “He’s torn up about it. He won’t tell me what happened, of course,” and she laughed. “But sisters can tell. So I wanted to check in.”</p><p>Grace couldn’t fault Maru for trying. “We had a bit of a fight,” she confessed. “He...uh, I...well, it wasn’t great.”</p><p>Maru rubbed her shoulder in a friendly way. “I know he’s a weirdo. And men can be idiots.” Very sisterly, Grace observed. “But he means well. And he does miss you. I think he really regrets whatever happened.” </p><p>Grace sighed. “Thanks, Maru. I’m sure he does. But I just need a little space to sort my head out.” </p><p>Maru smiled. “Sometimes my head gets so cluttered with nonsense I can hardly think. Getting some fresh air usually helps.”</p><p>“I’ve got nothing but fresh air!” laughed Grace. The tension broke. Penny giggled.</p><p>“Fair,” said Maru. “But please just text him back or something. Get him out of the house. He’s driving me nuts.”</p><p>Grace laughed again. “For you, Maru, maybe I’ll try.” She looked over to Penny. “Sorry to bring you into this, Penny.”</p><p>“Oh, not at all, Grace,” said Penny lightly. “Maru tells me everything.” Grace only just noticed they were holding hands. </p><p>She smiled and stood up. “Thanks, guys, but I should get going again. Catch up again soon.” They exchanged smiles and goodbyes. As Grace walked away, she glanced back, and saw them leaning their heads together, watching the last dregs of the sunset and chatting quietly. Penny had Maru’s hand held close to her chest, and raised it to kiss their twined fingers.</p><p>Grace felt a hole open in her chest. Who was going to care about her like that? She turned and slipped into the shadows of the trees.</p><p>By the time the walkway spit her out in front of Marnie’s ranch, it was almost completely dark out. The moon rose and fell on the small waves on the river, and Grace followed it to the lake, not sure what she was hoping to find. A dock stretched out from the lakeshore, and at the end rested a haggard shadow.</p><p>She recognized the slump in his shoulders and the dark cloud looming over him. She wanted to go home and put her feet up, but the boy in the photograph danced in her vision, and she sighed.</p><p>Grace walked to the end and quietly sat down next to him, dangling her feet off the edge of the dock. They were silent. The water lapped the shore and sprinkled their shoes with every wave. The crickets were deafening.</p><p>Shane spoke first. “Up late, huh?”</p><p>Grace shrugged. “Hardly.” The pink from the sunset still tinted the edges of the sky over the forest.</p><p>“Late for a farmer.” Shane took a long sip from his beer before fishing one out of the cooler behind him. “Here,” he said, shoving it towards her. “Have a cold one.” </p><p>Shane’s body radiated heat, uncomfortable in the muggy night. Grace accepted the frosty can and cracked it with a hiss before slapping a mosquito off of her thigh. She held the cold can to the bite with a satisfied sigh.</p><p>Shane’s shoulders loosened next to her. She eyed his strong thighs, dark leg hair, soft paunch and shrugged shoulders...up to his stubbled neck and jaw, his cheekbones and soft eyes. Is this what Sebastian had seen through her window the other night, when Shane stopped by? Grace took a long sip of her beer.</p><p>“Hell of a week,” she said.</p><p>He shrugged. “There’s all the same to me.”</p><p>“What brings you out here?” she asked. The crickets were buzzing on the shoreline.</p><p>Shane sighed. “Ah, you know. Life.” He tilted his head back and drained his beer, then crushed the can and reached back for another.</p><p>Only then did Grace notice the array of empty and crushed cans around him on the dock, and the stale smell of beer rolling off him. He’d been out here for awhile.</p><p>“Just enjoying the evening?” She tried to keep it light. Then she realized his eyes were wet and distant. She didn’t know what else to say. She took a careful sip.</p><p>“Enjoying? I don’t...I don’t know.” He looked at the can in his hands, his eyebrows tight and face resigned. They were quiet again for a long time.</p><p>“Do you ever feel like…” Shane trailed off. He tried again. “You ever feel like...no matter what you do, you’re gonna fail?”</p><p>Her heart caught in her throat. “Fail?”</p><p>“Yeah. I mean...I don’t know.”</p><p>She bristled. “Me? You think I’m failing at Hillcrest?”</p><p>He pulled a hand back through his curly hair, inadvertently loosening the locks so they splayed like a dark halo. “Fuck, farmer, not everything’s about you.” He said this without emotion, just matter-of-fact.</p><p>The words stung, and Grace shrunk back. He didn’t seem to notice. He kept speaking in a slurred monotone. “Yoba, it’s like...it’s like you’re stuck in some...miserable abyss, and you’re so deep, you can’t even see the light of day.”</p><p>The crickets were screaming now. Grace thumbed at the tab of her beer can, not sure what to say. She was pretty sure he was going to regret this tomorrow. She already regretted it. </p><p>Shane pulled another long drink from his can. “I just feel like...no matter how hard I try, I’m not strong enough to climb out of that hole.”</p><p>Grace lifted her hand up to his arm but stopped short. He wavered in place, eyes still distant. She took her hand back down, then brought her beer to her lips. In a few short gulps, it was empty. The beer sloshed in her stomach, unable to fill the hole inside her.</p><p>Shane swayed and laughed softly to himself. “Fast drinker, huh? Woman after my own heart.” He stopped, realizing what he’d said, and looked down, shrinking before her eyes.</p><p>Grace tossed the empty can behind them onto the dock and against her better judgement, pulled another out of the cooler. She cracked it and started sipping, watching him from the corner of her eye. Shane smiled and turned to face her. “Just don’t make it a habit...you’ve got a future ahead of you...still.”</p><p>“A future? Shane, don’t talk like that. I think I’m only a couple years younger than you.” She felt like ants were crawling under her skin.</p><p>“Bah. You’re...” He was less coherent, his sway more pronounced.</p><p>“You don’t have a monopoly on having a crappy life. Just a crappy attitude.” She was fully irritated by now.</p><p>“Well, just...don’t keep hanging around me,” he muttered. “You... you’ll get dragged in, too. Everything I touch, everything I…” he trailed off and clumsily wiped his face with the back of his hand.</p><p>Grace had resented the obvious disdain Pelican Town residents had for Shane. Hell, when Sebastian spoke down about him, it sparked a fury. But finally, it occurred to her for the first time that maybe there was a good reason the townspeople left Shane alone. Not out of shame for his drinking, but an understanding that someone who doesn’t want to haul themselves out of their own misery will only drag you in with them.</p><p>“What a way to live,” she said. Her tone wasn’t kind.</p><p>The beer and the moonshine reminded Grace of a different night, on a different lake, when she’d first moved to the valley. For the first time all week, she wondered what Sebastian was doing. The moonlight blinked at her from the ripples on the water.</p><p>Shane drained his beer with a shaky hand. “See you ‘round, Grace.” He tried to stand, but he stumbled and fell hard on the dock. Grace leapt up and grabbed his shoulders. He tried to shake her off, but struggled to keep his balance.</p><p>She gripped him tightly and guided him to stand. “I have to help you home.” He tried to swat her away but he was too dazed. Thankful for the new muscle she was packing from her daily farm chores, she let Shane lean heavily on her, then guided him slowly back to the ranch, into the house and to the room off the kitchen she knew to be his.</p><p>Even with the lights off, she could tell it was a mess. Clothes and old food containers were strewn across the floor, peppered with empty beer cans and liquor bottles. Posters and photos were taped on the walls, some peeling off, a few already fallen to the floor. Shane’s face was red with shame and he looked away from her. </p><p>Grace calmly sat him on his bed, then knelt in front of him and tugged off his ratty sneakers. Shane looked down into her face, eyes wet. When she met his gaze, he looked away, then dropped his head into his hands. Grace stood up and put her hands firmly on his shoulders, guiding him to lie down. </p><p>Shane took his hands away from his face and looked up at her with glazed eyes. “Don’t...please stay.” Seemingly against his will, his eyelids slid shut and his breathing evened out. She pulled the blanket up and tucked it close on all sides. She started towards the door, then paused, listening to his soft snores. Shane was a large man, but he looked small in the shadow of the night. Something in Grace’s resolve softened. Against her better judgement, she turned back and gently placed a finger in the dimple in his chin. </p><p>She tasted the beer still on her tongue, and imagined herself just as easily slumping into Shane’s position as into the isolated life she was carving for herself. Suddenly she ached to be cared for. She ached for the simple joy from sharing a meal and a bed and a few nice memories, even if not a life together. She ached for the good days, knowing they’d be followed by the hard ones. She ached for love, even if just a half measure.</p><p>“Sleep well, Shane,” she whispered. She ran a hand up and into his curls. His breath hitched and he coughed in his sleep. She watched him for a few more minutes, fingers circling his hair, before standing up and stepping out, shutting the door quietly behind her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Breathe the Moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grace texted Sebastian the next morning. <i>Let’s talk.</i> Within half an hour he was at her door, thermos of coffee in hand and panting from the brisk walk over. His eyes were lined with dark shadows.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry Grace. You’re so important to me. I was an ass.”</p>
<p>Grace cracked a shy smile. “Yeah, you were.” The peace offering was a nice touch. She plucked the thermos out of his hand and took a long sip. His eyes never left hers. The coffee had cream and sugar. Blech! How did he keep forgetting she liked it black?</p>
<p>No sooner had she set the thermos on the table than Seb had thrown his arms around her. She sank her face into his chest, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. His smell had worn off her pillows days ago.</p>
<p>She smiled and let him kiss her cheek, her jaw, her neck, while he murmured “I’m sorry” over and over. His strong hands gripped her waist.</p>
<p>Nothing had changed, really.</p>
<p>Sebastian was still going to leave. He was disillusioned with Stardew Valley. Her everyday joys and new discoveries were already relics of his past. So his future wasn’t with her. Not really. And she tucked that truth away into a corner of her heart that stayed very heavy and dark.</p>
<p>But for the first time in a very long time, Grace chose closeness with others over retreat and self-preservation. Someday, she’d have to let go. But until then, she was going to hold on as hard as she could. After all, he was holding onto her, too.</p>
<p>Their lips met, and they sank into each others’ warmth for a long moment. Grace felt her walls falling. The sun beamed through the window and they pulled apart to admire each other in its radiant glow. His silver eyes sparkled, and Grace gently ran her hand along the day-old stubble on his cheek. She’d never seen him anything but clean shaven. It scratched her chin when they kissed.</p>
<p>“I missed you,” she said, marveling at herself and her readiness to admit it. With the smallest tilt of his head, she could tell he was reading her. He seemed to understand how hard this was for her to say. She basked in his acceptance.</p>
<p>Suddenly, he scooped her up and set her on her table. He was standing between her thighs, his hands still wrapped around her and resting on her lower back.</p>
<p>“I missed you too, babe,” he said into her mouth. He kept space between them, cautious in his kiss and smiling sweetly. She wrapped her fingers into his belt loops and tugged him closer. He settled in with their hips flush and let his hands slide down to give her ass a tentative squeeze.</p>
<p>Grace locked her arms around his waist and held him close. “I missed this, too,” she whispered. “Being close to you.”</p>
<p>“I never want to fight again,” he said into her ear before kissing the skin under it.</p>
<p>Grace sank into his embrace. “Okay,” she promised, and let herself fall.</p>
<p>Summer went by in a dreamy haze. The days were long, humid and busy. Last winter, buried in snow and misery in Zuzu City, Grace’s life had been a gaping void. Now, every day promised new experiences and joys. Sebastian became a constant and caring fixture. He’d established a wifi router in her home twice (Rusty mistook the first one for a toy, so Seb installed the next one on a high shelf) so he could stay most days to do his work from her house. She was gradually getting to know the townsfolk, and settling into a cozy routine with Seb and his friends. And she was growing more produce than she’d ever thought possible -- aided by the fertilizer from Marnie’s ranch.</p>
<p>Her neighbor swung by every so often for sweet sun tea and a chat on the porch. The ladies enjoyed a little gossip and a lot of sunning. Grace’s hair was now practically blonde, and her face thick with freckles. Sometimes the ladies swapped their morning teas for evening wines.</p>
<p>Grace sensed Marnie was lacking in adult companionship. Her love for Shane and her little niece, Jas, beamed through her smile and stories. But these days, it seemed like Shane wasn’t much fun to be around.</p>
<p>He’d still come by sometimes to help drag things out of the shed or put them back away. Once in a while he’d give Grace unwarranted advice in a gruff tone, usually in passing while his arms were full of boxes, pallets or tools. But most of the time, Shane stayed away. After seeing his drinking in action on the lake at the end of spring, Grace was okay with the space. She had her own shit. She couldn’t get sucked into someone else’s.</p>
<p>And Shane had been right to warn her about the abyss.</p>
<p>One day towards the end of summer, Marnie stopped with a tearful Jas in tow, begging Grace to let her use the farmhouse bathroom. Grace paused from tilling the soil in a new flowerbed to wave Marnie on, tugging Rusty’s collar to hold him back from charging to greet their guests.</p>
<p>It took until Grace was done tilling, planting and watering her new poppies for Marnie and Jas to appear again on Grace’s porch. Jas’s eyes were puffy. Sebastian stepped out of the house from behind them and raised an eyebrow at Grace from behind their backs. She shrugged inconspicuously, brushed her dirty hands on her ratty tank top, and met them at the porch.</p>
<p>“Hello Jas. How are you?” she asked in a gentle tone.</p>
<p>Jas gave a little sniff. “Hi Miss Grace,” she said quietly, after Marnie gave her a small nudge.</p>
<p>“Your aunt told me you like flowers. Is that right?” Jas’s interest was piqued and she nodded. “I’ve got a bunch of fairy roses growing in that patch right there.” Grace pointed towards the side of the house.</p>
<p>“Can I see?” Jas asked eagerly.</p>
<p>“Yes, but you have to be super careful because of the thorns, okay?” Grace pulled pruning shears out of her toolbag and handed them to Sebastian. “Sebastian is going to show you where the roses are, and he’ll make you a bouquet of all the flowers you want. How does that sound?”</p>
<p>Jas had let go of Marnie’s hand and was wiggling with excitement. “Yes please, thank you!” she said very quickly. She followed Sebastian down the porch steps and around to the side of the house.</p>
<p>Grace stepped inside to pour a couple glasses of water, then joined Marnie on the porch. “Thought she looked like she could use some cheering up,” she said. Marnie thanked Grace before taking a long drink of water.</p>
<p>“I love that girl, but my goodness. There just aren’t enough hours in the day,” said Marnie in a weary voice. She took another sip. “Penny called -- right when I was helping a customer, no less -- because Jas had a little accident at the library. I’d had to close up shop and run over. Poor thing was in hysterics.”</p>
<p>Grace was surprised. “She’s six, right?”</p>
<p>“Seven,” corrected Marnie. “Just turned earlier this summer.” </p>
<p>Oops. Grace had brought over a half-melted pink cake and a bubble wand as a gift. “I forgot,” she apologized. Marnie waved her off.</p>
<p>“Jas is such a sweet girl, and she seems so brave, but she’s been through a lot. Sometimes she still wets the bed, too. I’d thought we were getting past this.” Marnie drained her water and set the cup on the porch railing, looking out to the southern path back to her ranch. She seemed to be contemplating the distant cloudline. </p>
<p>After a pause, she asked, “Do you know how Jas came to live with me?”</p>
<p>Grace was a little surprised. “No,” she realized. “I don’t.”</p>
<p>“Jas lost her parents when she was five.” Marnie gave her head a small shake, as though the news was still unbelievable. “I’ve done my best to make her feel at home here, you know, but it’s hard. She still knows what she’s missing. Sometimes she wants to go home.” She gave Grace a sad smile.</p>
<p>“Oh!” gasped Grace, her hand raised to her chest in shock. “That’s terrible. I had no idea. I’m so sorry for your loss, Marnie.”</p>
<p>Marnie looked confused. “My loss?”</p>
<p>“Jas is your niece, right? So your...sibling…” She trailed off as Marnie’s face tightened.</p>
<p>“Oh, Gracie,” said Marnie, her frown lines cutting her soft face. “I’m sorry for the confusion. Jas is my niece, but it’s not by blood.” She hesitated, looking tense, then stiffened her resolve and said: “Jas is Shane’s goddaughter.”</p>
<p>Grace felt her eyebrows furrow. Then it sank in, the pieces fit together, and she felt her stomach drop. The ground disappeared from beneath her feet.</p>
<p>Their motley family had experienced enormous tragedy. She knew by now that Shane had only moved into town in the last year or two. Apparently, Jas had come with him. His drinking and prickly, isolated demeanor came into a different light. </p>
<p>No one in Pelican Town knew Grace was outrunning her own shattered family. Realizing Shane was breaking under the weight of his grief, she briefly resented herself for surviving her own.</p>
<p>Her throat closed like she was drowning in sorrow. She couldn’t tell if it belonged to her or to someone else. She grabbed her arm and squeezed it tightly, digging her fingernails into the skin.</p>
<p>“Marnie, I…” Grace couldn’t finish the sentence. She wanted to ask so many questions, but her tongue was heavy.</p>
<p>Marnie pulled Grace into a soft hug, then released and patted her maternally on the shoulder. “It really is okay, honey,” she confided. “I wouldn’t have told just anyone, you know.”</p>
<p>Grace leaned into Marnie, catching her breath, and they watched the afternoon sun melt onto the farm, listening to Jas’s bright voice carry from around the side of the farmhouse. Marnie finally spoke again. “At some point, I expect you would’ve heard from folks around town, or maybe someday Shane would tell you. I know how he is, though, so I trust you’ll be discreet.”</p>
<p>Grace nodded. “He’s a private person,” she said simply. Neither woman needed to say more.</p>
<p>“She’s a bright kid, and she’ll be just fine.” Marnie paused for a moment, then corrected herself: “Both of them will.”</p>
<p>Finally, Jas came back around the house. Jas’s face was worry-free, and she skipped through the lanes of seeds Grace had just finished planting. While Marnie called to her to be more careful, Sebastian came into view. The pruning shears were jammed into his back pocket, and his arms were overflowing with fairy roses.</p>
<p>“Grace, I couldn’t stop her,” he said, his voice muffled by the bouquet. “She went on a rampage.” Grace laughed heartily. It was worth it, she observed. Jas was untethered to her emotional outburst from earlier.</p>
<p>Jas hopped up the porch steps, two roses in hand, and handed one to Grace, who thanked her kindly. She handed the second to Marnie, and in a very serious tone, said, “Can you hold this please? It’s for Uncle Shane.” Marnie’s smile tightened, but she secured the flower in the front pocket of her apron.</p>
<p>On an impulse, Grace darted inside and came back out with a small box of hot peppers. She handed them to Marnie with an eyebrow raised. Marnie understood immediately, winking and placing them gently into her tote bag.</p>
<p>“Alright, little girl! Let’s head on home. I think it’s time for a snack, don’t you think?” Marnie gracefully accepted the armful of flowers from Shane and guided Jas to the southern path from the farm.</p>
<p>Seb stepped onto the porch and threw an arm over Grace, kissing the top of her head. He still smelled like roses.</p>
<p>“That Jas girl sure loves flowers. You’d never know it, seeing how much she roughhouses with Vincent,” he noted. “Sam said they broke his mom’s side table last week. He helped them hide it in the basement so Jodi wouldn’t see.”</p>
<p>Grace laughed. “Sam’s an agent of chaos. But Jas is so girlie. Remember her asking for that pink princess cake? I think it’s just hard for Marnie to keep up with her. She’s usually up to her ears in hay and manure.”</p>
<p>“Yuck. Yeah, I guess. Hey, that was nice of you to give Marnie those peppers,” he added. “She seemed like she really needed it.” Grace didn’t correct his assumption.</p>
<p>That night, at the bar, Grace sat next to Abigail on the pool room couch and watched Shane walk in with renewed interest. She caught his eye and held up her beer with a smile as a distant “cheers.” He blinked twice before holding up a hand in a simple wave. Then he retreated to his corner, and Grace tuned back into Abigail’s rant about the crystal industry.</p>
<p>The next morning, a recipe for hot pepper poppers sat in Grace’s mailbox. It wasn’t signed. But it made her grin into the sunrise with renewed vigor and hope.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Sun Can Bend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Shane fans -- this one is for you :) We're taking our first steps (into? out of?) this love triangle.</p><p>I know this chapter is short. But I promise next chapter is a special one.</p><p>(P.S. The chapter name references a Stardew summer song. G bless Eric Barone for single-handedly composing my #1 writing playlist.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following Sunday morning, Sebastian planted a delirious kiss on Grace, patted Rusty’s head, and walked home for the first time in over a week. His lips had tasted like coffee and cigarettes. Grace squeezed her arms around her middle and watched him walk away.</p><p>Seb stopped at the bottom of the northern path from her farm, the route up to the mountains, and turned to give a boisterous wave. She grinned stupidly and waved back so hard it shook her whole body. It was tradition. He stopped every time.</p><p>After a summer spent flitting around town and hiding out in Grace’s farmhouse, he owed Robin a real visit. They were going to have breakfast together. If anything, he’d at least have a chance to pick up more clean clothes from the house.</p><p>It would be just Seb and Robin today. Maru had told Grace at the luau beach buffet last week that she’d be at a robotics competition today and Demetrius would be joining her. Maru’s sly smile told Grace this information was not meant for her ears alone. Grace could tell that Maru knew her brother wouldn’t come home to visit, not really, as long as his step-father was around. She’d given Maru’s arm a gentle punch, wished her luck, and then practically ran to tell Sebastian.</p><p>They’d spent the rest of the luau sipping mai tais with Sam and Abigail under the shade of the trees framing the beach. They’d all winced watching Elliott desperately try and fail to flirt with Leah -- who, in turn, had been politely trying to break away from the man and edge over to Maru and Penny. Grace caught a similar dance happening between Marnie and Mayor Lewis, and she prayed her friends hadn’t spotted it. She felt guilty later, but she’d kept them distracted by whispering pointed judgements about Elliott’s male peacocking.</p><p>Watching Sebastian climb the mountain path, she wondered when he’d swallow his pride and build a relationship with Maru. Sebastian resented his family, especially Demetrius, but Maru was a bystander in Grace’s eyes. Maybe a particularly intuitive, influential bystander. Grace licked her lips and tasted Seb’s coffee, then thought better of her musings. Better not to get involved in sibling affairs. Besides, it was more than likely Maru already had this handled in her own way, with that big brain of hers. Grace smiled to herself.</p><p>The land was calling, and with Rusty by her side, she greeted her day’s work with garden shears in hand. After the long, humid summer, her plants were overfull and bent under their own weight, creaky in the wind and heavy with ripe produce for the picking. She marveled at the rich view before her.</p><p>Suddenly, Shane stepped out from behind a tree.</p><p>Grace gasped and Rusty barked once before he ran over to greet his friend. Shane dutifully greeted Rusty before walking closer to Grace. “Sorry to surprise you,” he said in a hoarse voice.</p><p>Shane looked like shit. Grace had seen him looking bad before, and honestly Shane never looked much better than terrible. But this was pretty low. His five o’clock shadow was nearing midnight, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted. He seemed to shrink into his ratty Joja hoodie. To be honest, Grace wasn’t completely sure he wasn’t in yesterday’s clothes. But he was on his own two feet, so that was something.</p><p>She realized she hadn’t seen or heard him come up the path. How long had he been waiting? Watching her say goodbye to Sebastian? Grace shuddered. Not worth dwelling on.</p><p>“Hi, Shane,” she started cautiously.</p><p>He looked embarrassed. “I wanted to come by, to, uh…” he started, then looked down. </p><p>“Thanks for the recipe,” she said. She tapped her foot, then added, against her better judgement: “If it was even you who left it, I guess.”</p><p>He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to thank you for the peppers but… I… It’s been hard to put into words.”</p><p>She cocked her head but he continued. “This year. You don’t know--”</p><p>She put a hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s fine,” she said firmly. She was pleased to learn his biceps were huge under that stupid hoodie.</p><p>Shane didn’t make eye contact, but he nodded.</p><p>“Well, if that’s all...” she trailed off. Her vegetables needed her. It would take all day to pick the damn things. Especially the thicket of beans in the tangled hell of her first plot. </p><p>Shane’s brown eyes twinkled as he looked up. “Don’t you have work to do, farmer?” </p><p>He looked a few inches taller than he was a minute ago.</p><p>“Wouldn’t be a problem if I just had two more hands,” she bemoaned.</p><p>Shane took the garden shears out of her hand before she could realize what she’d said. “Well,” he said, his voice already less hoarse. “We better get started, then.” He stomped off confidently to her first patch, and maybe just out of pure shock shock, she followed.</p><p>They spent the next few hours picking and stripping and trimming every plant on her property. Shane had been right all those months ago -- everything grew fine out here. </p><p>Maybe too fine, Grace wondered, looking at the mounds of fresh produce they had stacked on her porch. How was she going to get that to Pierre’s store alone? Grace looked at Shane and saw he was thinking the same thing. </p><p>Shane was sweating profusely and wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, now discarded on the ground. Grace ran inside to pour two glasses of water, and he accepted his with gratitude, downing it in one gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing. She tried to look away. Too late -- Shane caught her eye.</p><p>She gestured to the pile of produce. “If you have a little extra time…” </p><p>“Sure. I’ll get Marnie’s car.”</p><p>“I, uh…” Grace trailed off. She felt nauseous and tried to play it off as the heat, fanning her face gratuitously. Shane gave her a strange look. But he waited.</p><p>“I’m not getting in that deathtrap.”</p><p>It was halfway fair. Marnie’s car was an ancient, rusty shitbox. But it was notoriously sturdy. And Grace had said it in a tone so sharp that it could have cut Shane in half.</p><p>Shane paused, watching her studiously. She felt her eyebrows wrinkle and knew her face was pale under her freckles. His face was unreadable. Finally, Shane shrugged characteristically. “Whatever, farmer.” He looked towards the shed. “I’ll figure something out. Wait here.” He put a hand up firmly telling her not to follow, then disappeared into the ramshackle building.</p><p>Within half an hour, they were on the road into town, Grace pushing an overfilled wheelbarrow and Shane huffing as he lugged several boxes of produce. Beyond his strained breathing, the walk was quiet. </p><p>Pierre was generous with his purchase, and Grace’s chest felt as light as her pockets were heavy on the walk back home. Shane kept stretching his arms inconspicuously, obviously sore but too proud to admit it.</p><p>Once the farmhouse was in sight, Grace couldn’t stand the guilt anymore. She broke the silence. “Sorry about before, about Marnie’s car. I just...”</p><p>Shane brushed her words away with his hand. “Honestly, Grace,” he said, “I don’t give a shit.” Her heart jumped in her throat when he said her name.</p><p>“I thought it bothered you, or something.”</p><p>“What? It ‘bothered’ me?” He made scare quotes with his fingers. “Yoba, Grace, have you met me?” He gave a laugh, a real laugh, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob, and saw sweat drip down his jaw and neck to stain his gray shirt. The sun burned her cheeks. Or maybe it was something else. She tore her eyes away.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to be rude to you--”</p><p>“You could drop me off a cliff for all I care.”</p><p>She gaped at him. He looked at her, then back at the path. His spine was stiff. He wasn’t the same person who’d stumbled onto her farm that morning. “You worry about what I think. But you shouldn’t. You don’t owe me anything.”</p><p>Grace considered that for a moment. The trees rolled back and forth in the wind above them, casting shadow and light in chaotic patterns on the path. The silence was appealing. But she wanted to tell him.</p><p>“I lost my...some people I care about in a car accident.”</p><p>Shane looked at her curiously, but said nothing for a few minutes. The wind rustled the trees lining the path to her farm. The sun glinted and winked through the leaves. Then, he answered quietly.</p><p>“Funny. We have that in common.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Two Years Ago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Grace, Grace, Graaaace,” slurred Donna, stretching her hands across the table to hold Grace’s. She threw her head back in a cackle, but let Donna scoop her hands up. Donna’s locs were on fire in the dim yellow bar lights, and glowed brighter as the tequila hit the edges of Grace’s vision.</p>
<p>“Doooonnnaaahhhh,” she crowed back, winking dramatically. Someone at the table behind them leapt up too quickly and jammed their chair into Grace’s, throwing her forward against her table. She snorted drunkenly and Donna nearly tipped over laughing.</p>
<p>Jean snatched up Grace’s tequila sunrise and drained it. “There!” she crowed in her girlish high voice. “Now you have to go.” The girls flanking them at the table cheered and pushed Grace to her feet.</p>
<p>“Shots!” cried Donna as the other interns nodded. She did a quick tally and shot Grace the number with her fingers as the music blared. Jean tugged a Joja corporate card out of her tiny purse and passed it to Grace with plastic fingernails.</p>
<p>“Come ooooonnnn,” called Grace, already letting the crowd steer her back towards the bar. Donna waved her on with one hand, mouthing “do it!” until the busy bar swallowed her view of her table. </p>
<p>Grace reluctantly edged her way through the crowd, perched on her high heels and squirming in her too-tight dress. The lights blurred and swapped places. Her phone buzzed in her tiny purse. She pulled it out -- her parents. Grace shoved it back in and clawed her way to the bar. She couldn’t tell if the bartender was walking towards her or away. She closed her eyes and smiled, letting the music sway her. Maybe too much sway.</p>
<p>“Woah!” said a deep voice next to her. A strong pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and steered her into a barstool. Grace opened her eyes to see a tall man flagging a bartender down. “Water,” he called over the music. “And a ‘gansett.” Grace blinked for far too long and felt herself swaying again.</p>
<p>“Hey,” said the voice again, much closer now. She looked up blankly. The man was sitting in the stool next to her, one hand on his beer and one on the small of her back.</p>
<p>She smiled widely and threw a casual hand under her chin, trying to look coy. “You’re a...a tall, uh...glass of water.” He laughed, a fully bellied laugh, and tugged a hand back threw his dark, wild hair.</p>
<p>“You got me,” he said, grinning. Grace felt her hair stand up at its roots, waves electrifying.</p>
<p>“You are…ah...flirting with me?” she asked sweetly, drunkenly, trying to lean on her hand but missing and feeling her face fall forward.</p>
<p>He jumped forward, ready to catch her, but she steadied. “Sure,” he said carefully, watching closely with his rich brown eyes. “Sure, absolutely, I am.” He took a long drink from his beer and she watched his Adam's apple bob, hypnotized. He gestured towards her water glass. “Your turn, girl.” She confidently took a longer drink from her glass. When she set it down, he looked pleased. </p>
<p>“What, ah...brings you to Pete’s?” Grace asked, gesturing broadly at the dingy, noisy bar.</p>
<p>The man took a small sip of his beer, then nodded to the bartender. “Pete himself.” </p>
<p>Grace leaned in and let her hair fall over her shoulder. “So you can get me free drinks?” </p>
<p>The man laughed again. It lit a fire in her. “I think you’re getting cut off,” he confided, looking meaningfully towards her table. She turned around -- Jean was shrilly telling off a waiter while the girls at the table lay in various states of disarray. Donna locked eyes with Grace and wiggled her eyebrows, looking to the man and back. Grace quickly turned back to him.</p>
<p>A bead of sweat from his pint glass slid down his hand, down his strong forearm, dripped off his elbow onto his thigh, and melted into his jeans. Grace stared, absently noticing his thigh almost touched hers. She straightened up and leaned in, moving her legs closer to brush his. He was so fucking hot. If she crossed her legs just right, then through the left side split in her dress, he could see all the way up her thighs. She shifted her angle boldly. Thank Yoba she wore her nice panties. </p>
<p>His chocolate eyes glanced and looked away just as quickly. Ha! It worked. Were his cheeks redder under his dark stubble? His jawline...wow…</p>
<p>“So, you celebrating something?” he asked, looking less steady.</p>
<p>Grace tugged her hair back behind her ear. “A friend’s promotion,” she replied, looking away. The man looked over her head to her table.</p>
<p>“Oh man... can I guess which one?” She looked up, surprised. He grinned and nudged her water glass closer to her. “Another sip,” he said. She obliged.</p>
<p>He looked over her head and scratched his stomach absently, his t-shirt pulling against his taut abs. She saw a sliver of stomach skin where the shirt pulled up, and below that, the line of his boxers peeking out above his jeans. He was so casually handsome it hurt. Her stomach was doing backflips.</p>
<p>He didn’t notice her stare, inspecting her table closely before pointing. “The angry one?” She turned around. Jean had her long fingernail pointed in the poor waiter’s face, her lipstick uncharacteristically smudged.</p>
<p>Grace threw her head back and laughed. It was her most hideous drunken cackle. The man tilted his head, eyebrows wrinkling for a moment before smoothing with a smile. “You got it,” she slurred.</p>
<p>The man nudged her water closer again. Grace paused and swirled her finger around the top. “My turn…?” she asked, looking up at him curiously. He smiled and nodded. </p>
<p>She took a long sip, holding eye contact the whole time. He swallowed hard and took another drink from his beer. The music changed to a clanging pop song -- her girls at the table started singing along.</p>
<p>“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked in what she hoped was a wise tone. He tipped his glass in a mock “cheers,” then drained it.</p>
<p>“Grampleton,” he confessed. Grace poked his forearm, mostly to test if it was as strong as it looked. ...It was.</p>
<p>“I knew it!” she cried gleefully. He tugged a hand back through his hair.</p>
<p>“What gave me away?” he asked. </p>
<p>Grace batted her eyelashes. The man gestured to the bartender, and suddenly a fresh water and beer appeared. She took a small sip of the water. </p>
<p>After a pause, she said, “City boys aren’t this nice.” The man smiled. It was sweet. A curl fell onto his forehead boyishly. </p>
<p>“Is that so?” he asked, leaning closer to her. She wondered if her finger would fit in the small dimple in his chin. The music was still blaring but felt further away.</p>
<p>“It...yeah,” she said, looking into his warm brown eyes. They felt familiar somehow. Like she could tell him her life story and he’d already know it. </p>
<p>They watched each other for a moment, the dark room falling away. Grace’s heart pounded in her chest and she let it pull her closer to him. The noise faded. She could see the gold flakes in his eyes now. The heat between them caught fire. </p>
<p>She tilted her face up and closed her eyes -- just before feeling a sudden chill. She opened her eyes again.</p>
<p>He was sitting back in his seat, leaning away from her, looking with alarm at a young woman approaching. She had thick black hair and bright blue eyes. She waved at the man, shoving through a gaggle of frat boys on her way up to the bar.</p>
<p>The man’s hand slid quietly off the bar and onto Grace’s thigh. He gave it a gentle, apologetic squeeze. Her skin burned where he touched. The heat spread all the way through her body.</p>
<p>The woman made it to them and elbowed the man. He quickly released Grace’s leg and grabbed his beer.</p>
<p>“Hey, man! Pete’s shift’s up.” Grace spotted a thin gold band on her left hand. She shot a careful glance over -- no ring on the man’s. “I called the babysitter. We’ve got time for just one stop.” </p>
<p>The man nodded and looked to the other side of the room, where the bartender was tugging off his apron. </p>
<p>“Sure, Jen, meet you out front. Let me just take care of this first,” he said, tilting his beer at her. She suddenly noticed Grace next to him. She tugged anxiously at her tight dress and smiled weakly.</p>
<p>Jen grinned and winked conspicuously at the man. “Oooookay, bud,” she said in a sing-song voice. “You got it!” She ducked back into the crowd. Grace peered through the room to see Jen leap into the bartender’s open arms with a whoop.</p>
<p>She turned back to the man sitting next to her, who was furiously blushing into his beer. “My best friends,” he muttered. “Pains in my ass.”</p>
<p>Grace, mourning the heat of their moment, laughed a little too politely and took a long drink of her water as he finished his beer. She felt her phone buzzing in her bag again and ignored it. Quickly she stood, wobbling in her Friday night heels, and looked up at the man. “Have a good night,” she said lamely, turning away back towards her table. She felt a strong hand grab her arm and spin her around.</p>
<p>He was leaning close. “Be safe,” he said. “Promise me.” She could have fallen into his chocolate eyes. Silently, she promised.</p>
<p>She tilted her head up, hopeful one more time, but he betrayed her by dodging left. She felt his soft lips and scratchy stubble on her cheek and flushed, all the way to the tips of her ears.</p>
<p>The dark haired woman yelled from the door: “Shane!” He looked up quickly, then back to Grace apologetically. He dropped her arm and started walking away. When he got to the end of the bar, he shot a last look back, but let his friends throw their arms around him and pull him into the cool spring night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I believe that if someone is meant to be in your life, destiny makes sure your paths cross again, and again, and again. </p>
<p>Time will tell whether or not Shane and Grace remember this night. </p>
<p>Really hope you guys love this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Into Dust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I'm way off a weekly update schedule with this one BUT I've done a lot of work on where they go from here and I think you guys are going to really like it!</p>
<p>Now, we're back in the present...and this chapter is from Shane's perspective.</p>
<p>As always, thanks for reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The beer in Shane’s hand was sweating on Grace’s small kitchen table. Beads of water ran over his thick fingers and stained the old, splintered wood. </p>
<p>He didn’t think she’d notice. She had closed the door on her finger on their way in and was sucking it absentmindedly, staring at the kitchen window. Her cheeks were red from the sun and her hair was frizzy in the summer humidity.</p>
<p>Shane didn’t mind the silence, but it had been quiet a little too long. It’s not like Grace was usually chatty, but she hadn’t spoken since she’d offered him a beer when they’d sat down a few minutes ago. He hadn’t been inside Grace’s house before -- not since they were kids, back when it was her grandfather’s house -- so he glanced around. He took in the overstuffed kitchen cabinets and counters, the worn couch and ancient TV, and the dusty boxes of books from her shed, their contents spilled haphazardly across the floor. From behind Grace’s head, he could see into her bedroom and just the foot of her bed. Shane’s face warmed and took a sip of his beer.</p>
<p>Finally, Grace tugged her finger out of her mouth and spoke. “You’re fucking up my table.”</p>
<p>Shane lifted his beer and wiped the condensation off the table with his hand. It didn’t do much to help the stain. But you could hardly tell which stain came from his can, the table was so beat up. “It’s a shitty table, anyways.”</p>
<p>She pinched the back of his hand and he frowned and pulled his arm out of her reach. “Asshole. It’s still my table.”</p>
<p>Shane grabbed a couple paper towels from behind the sink and set them under their cans. “Happy now?”</p>
<p>She sighed. “Not really.” Grace paused, face scrunched, and Shane knew she wasn’t talking about the condensation. She was thinking about her burst of honesty on their way back from Pierre’s. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Not to you.”</p>
<p>Shane hadn’t expected that. “Well, thanks…” he trailed off. He tried to articulate his thoughts more politely than he was thinking them -- but as usual, he failed. “Too late for that.”</p>
<p>“It’s weird now.” She rubbed her eyes then held her head in her hands.</p>
<p>Shane’s palm was wet from condensation from the beer and he wiped it onto his tattered shorts. “It’s not weird.”</p>
<p>“I made it weird.”</p>
<p>“You’re already weird.” He thumbed the tab on the top of his can.</p>
<p>“Don’t be an ass.” Grace rubbed her eyes again before setting her hands back on the table. “You know what I mean. Really, I shouldn’t have said anything.”</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>Wrinkles had appeared on Grace’s forehead. “Now the town is going to know, and they’ll have questions too. Lewis, and Jodi, and Yoba help me, Marnie--”</p>
<p>“Grace, for fuck’s sake. What are you talking about?” Shane scraped his hand back through his hair in exasperation.</p>
<p>Grace squeezed her eyes shut for a moment then opened them again, hypnotizing him. “I just wanted to start over,” she confessed. “I came here for a fresh start. But everyone here knew my family. And thinks they know me. So...it’s not really that fresh.” She twirled a lock of hair absently. “I kept it to myself. I wanted this new life to be just for me.”</p>
<p>“Kept what?” He waited, as patiently as he could, but his thick eyebrows were raised in exasperation. He couldn’t help it.</p>
<p>She wrung her hands and wrinkled her nose. It curved up a little at the end, he noticed. </p>
<p>After a time, she spoke again. “Do you remember them?”</p>
<p>Shane blinked twice. “Who?”</p>
<p>“My parents.”</p>
<p>The summers on Marnie’s ranch were the only bright spots of his childhood. Every summer he held in perfect clarity, each a treasured memory. He found bliss in the tall grasses and long days, spending every waking hour with an overly energetic little brunette girl from the city. Even when she made him play with her dolls, even when she named all his chickens girl names, even when she annoyed him out of his skull -- he had been happy.</p>
<p>Of course he remembered her parents. The day their small red sedan drove into town to take Grace home was always the signal summer was over, that his father would soon be picking him up, too. He’d always hated them for it.</p>
<p>His heart sank.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Then: “A little.”</p>
<p>Grace pointed at her small fridge. Shane turned to see an old, wrinkled picture taped to the front. He smiled at her grandfather’s warm grisled face, and the small girl from his memories immortalized in the photograph. Her parents flanked her, each holding one of her small hands.</p>
<p>“It was a drunk driver.” Grace’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Dead on impact.”</p>
<p>Shane was a little shocked, but he knew Grace expected him to be calm. He took another sip of his beer and willed his heart to slow down.</p>
<p>“Your aunt keeps asking me about them.”</p>
<p>Shane shrugged instinctively. “Marnie’s nosy.”</p>
<p>Grace looked a little offended on Marnie’s behalf, so Shane smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “This town’s too small. The ladies are out of new gossip to talk about.”</p>
<p>Grace shook her head. “It’s not like that. She was close to my grandfather. I don’t know about my parents -- well, she must have known my dad, at least. He grew up in this fucking house.” She paused, doing some mental math on Marnie’s age, then shook her head again.</p>
<p>“Grace,” said Shane gently. “I honestly think Marnie would understand why you didn’t tell her. I don’t know if you noticed, but she’s sort of a saint. It won’t matter to her.”</p>
<p>“What? Of course it matters,” said Grace desperately, searching Shane’s face for understanding. “Yoba, she cares so much. Cares about me, too. She literally gave me a dog, just for moving in.” Shane pointedly leaned down to scratch Rusty’s ear where he lay under the table.</p>
<p>“And she’s helped me so much with the farm.” Grace gestured to the plots just visible out her front windows. They were still a little scraggly, Shane observed, and Grace was in dire need of a well or some automated irrigation. But she was getting better.</p>
<p>Grace sighed. “I shouldn’t have lied to her but… I can’t give her this news. I can’t bear the town’s eyes on me any more than they already are.” She chewed her bottom lip, lost in thought. He noticed her upper lip was a little bigger than her bottom lip, and that it was framed in a lovely cupid’s bow.</p>
<p>Then she looked at him. “Shane,” she said, and he started, looking away from her mouth. Yoba help him, her voice was low and rough when she said his name. “You can’t talk to Marnie about this.”</p>
<p>Grace was shaping her own narrative in Pelican Town. Shane never had the luxury of choice. His story was out of his hands from the moment he arrived, Jas in tow, and he envied her relative privacy.</p>
<p>But his stomach was tight. To keep the truth from Marnie? She’d known him inside and out, no shadows between them since the day his old life had ended.</p>
<p>It wasn’t his story to tell, though. And Shane knew the value of trust between untrusting people, that their shared secrets were worth more than gold. Her forehead was still wrinkled, and he suddenly, desperately loved the deep line perfectly centered between her eyebrows.</p>
<p>“She won’t hear it from me,” he promised, and Grace seemed to relax. </p>
<p>She smiled, then pulled an errant lock of hair behind her ear. Not that it helped much -- the humidity had made her usually tame hair into a cotton ball. He suppressed the urge to point it out.</p>
<p>“I went to work a day after the funeral. It was a Monday. I didn’t even take a day off.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Can you believe that?”</p>
<p>Her honesty was disarming. She had always been like this though. Even when they were kids, she was always braver than he was, always pushed him, challenged him. He wondered what the same honesty would look like on him. Shane tore his eyes away from her and looked down at his beer.</p>
<p>He moved the can between his two hands on the table, weighing the conversation in his mind. With each movement, he considered his own tragedies. Should he reciprocate? Or hold it close?</p>
<p>Back and forth. Left to right. Open up or stay closed.</p>
<p>The can stopped. Grace had her hand on his wrist. “Don’t be annoying,” she said firmly. Her hand was warm, even though she was only holding him loosely. He smiled without meaning to. Her eyes glittered -- or maybe he imagined it. He tugged his mouth back down into his usual grimace.</p>
<p>“Can’t help it,” he muttered, shaking her hand off and taking a sip before setting his beer back down and locking eyes. </p>
<p>After a long moment, he said, “I get why you went back to work.” She tilted her head and waited. “The mundane gives us purpose.” he continued, thinking about his hours this week stocking and restocking the same shelves at Joja Mart. “People are desperate for routine when they don’t have control over their lives. Even if none of it matters, anyways.”</p>
<p>She thought about that for a minute. “Well,” she replied. “The mundane didn’t last.” She gestured at the small farmhouse, and something clicked for Shane.</p>
<p>“It was recent.”</p>
<p>“Sort of.” Grace rested her chin in her hand. “Just about a year ago.”</p>
<p>Only a year. She was so stoic. He wondered if she was pretending to be strong, wearing a fake suit of armor, or if it was real. His grief had broken him in half. How had she survived? </p>
<p>“That’s a...big change,” he said dully.</p>
<p>She remained unfazed. “I kept the momentum up, clearly.” She gestured at the dingy farmhouse, then paused to scratch Rusty’s head before she continued. “I just didn’t like my life after that. So I made it into something new.”</p>
<p>Shane shrugged again. “Wish I could relate. Every time I try something new, it goes horribly wrong.” He was quiet for a few long seconds. “You learn to just stay in a shell,” he finished quietly. He could feel her eyes on him.</p>
<p>His confession made him shaky. Shane felt himself unwillingly become tense. He poured the rest of his beer down his throat and crushed his can. Grace didn’t move, so he helped himself to another from the fridge. The hiss when he cracked it open stirred her from her thoughts.</p>
<p>How fate could unwind their lives, set them on parallel paths through a parallel suffering, and wind their lives again in the town they met -- fifteen years older and wiser. It made him want to cheer, or throw a chair out of a window, or scream at how cruel it was. Mostly it made him want to drink.</p>
<p>She shook her head again, like she was trying to wake herself up. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.”</p>
<p>Shane thought he knew why. So he took a gamble. “It’s different when you grow up with someone,” he said cautiously. “There’s...trust. We knew each other before all the shit that made us fucked up adults. Even if we don’t really know each other now.”</p>
<p>There was a long, pensive stretch of silence, and Grace watched a drop of condensation roll off her untouched beer. Shane continued to work diligently on his.</p>
<p>He could tell the question was coming, probably before she knew she was going to ask it, and he felt sweat trickle down his back. His hoodie was still abandoned outside, and he just realized how much he’d sweat into his shirt working on the farm this morning. He hadn’t even showered before coming over. Last night’s hangover was still seeping out of his pores.</p>
<p>Shane suddenly hated Grace’s eyes on him, wished he could sink into the floor or shrink into the wall. He could feel every extra inch of himself, every pound that had crept on over the last couple of years. His softness felt like a malignant growth, and he felt so embarrassed he wanted to shrivel into dust. His T-shirt sleeves were cutting into his arms. The chair pressed into his back, aching in his most vulnerable corners, and he shifted with the discomfort. His cheeks were hot from the beer and he knew it, he resented himself more with every sip he took. He finished his beer and self-consciously tugged his shirt where it was tight on his belly.</p>
<p>Grace didn’t notice his discomfort. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have asked.</p>
<p>“When you said we had...that...in common...what did you mean?”</p>
<p>Shane wouldn’t meet her eyes. His shame was a prison. She pushed her untouched can of beer towards him, and he took it and drank half in one gulp.</p>
<p>“It’s...uh,” he started gruffly, not sure how he wanted the sentence to end. He stopped and thought hard, his mind slow from the beer. Grace waited. Finally, he continued. “That night, in spring. On the dock. Remember?” He looked up at her, and she nodded. He worked to form his tongue around the words. “It was the anniversary.”</p>
<p>When he’d woken up the morning after she’d helped him home, his head pounding, he hadn’t remembered how he’d gotten to bed. He’d lay still for a few minutes in his dark room, willing the walls to stop spinning, listening through his bedroom door to Marnie lecturing Jas about bringing chickens into the house. Pretty soon, Jas’s small footsteps were tromping around the house again, just noisy enough to force Shane out of his stupor.</p>
<p>Only once he’d rolled to stand and saw his sneakers on the floor did he remember Grace’s round face, framed in soft auburn hair, looking up at him from where she knelt when she pulled them off.</p>
<p>The night came flooding back. Shane had felt cold, then hot all over. He had to take it back. Or apologize. Or make her forget. </p>
<p>But all he knew how to do was make himself forget. </p>
<p>He tried to tug a sneaker on and found he needed to sit first. Slowly, he maneuvered into both shoes and stumbled out the door. He blew past Jas in the kitchen, Marnie brushing her thick black hair into buns, ignoring the confusion and disappointment written on her young face. Before long, eyes still bleary and shoes half-tied, he was in Gus’s pub, picking up a pint glass he wouldn’t put down for the rest of the summer.</p>
<p>Her voice brought him back to the present. “That’s...Shane, I--”</p>
<p>“Don’t fucking say you’re sorry.” He couldn’t stop himself. He could see her shrink into her chair a little and hated himself for it. </p>
<p>To her credit, she didn’t look discouraged. “What should I say instead?”</p>
<p>His t-shirt was a straightjacket, and her eyes on him were making his skin crawl. He felt a drop of sweat slide down his face and winced. “I don’t care,” he huffed.</p>
<p>She thought for a moment, the line reappearing between her eyebrows. It softened him. Maybe it showed in his face when she looked at him, because she suddenly smiled and said, “Okay. ‘I don’t care.’”</p>
<p>It caught him off guard. He barked a laugh in shock, then a rumbling real laugh followed. She joined in, and they felt the tension evaporate from the room. </p>
<p>This, more than anything else in the world, was what he’d needed. Someone who understood.</p>
<p>But he still felt his skin ripping like stitches at his seams. And he still had the demons in his mind, making their home between his ears, reminding him he didn’t deserve understanding, or a cold beer on a hot day, or a fraction of a friend.</p>
<p>So he finished his beer and thanked her gruffly. She brushed his words aside with her hand. He noted she looked a little lighter, eyebrows less creased, after their conversation.</p>
<p>“I can’t thank you enough for your help today,” she said sincerely.</p>
<p>He gruffly answered, in all honesty, “It’s nothing.”</p>
<p>She walked him to the door and stood on her porch as he started walking away. When he stopped to grab his sweatshirt off of the scarecrow he’d hung it on, she called out, “You’re jackin’ his style!”</p>
<p>He looked at her with surprise, still processing the tentative smile on her face, then up at the scarecrow. It was an ugly thing. Still, better looking than he was. Shane replied, “I’m doing him a favor, he doesn’t have the body type for it.”</p>
<p>She laughed. “He’s just a bag of hay. What else do you need?”</p>
<p>Shane tugged the hoodie on despite the damp afternoon heat, glad for the baggy armor, and pretended to pop the collar. “I’m just a bag of flesh. But that’s fine. What’s life, anyways?”</p>
<p>Grace cackled. She had such a hideous, full bodied laugh. Shane’s chest swelled to hear it. He raised a hand in goodbye, and she wiped away tears and waved back, still laughing.</p>
<p>Shane started down the path, but after a few long minutes, he turned back. She was facing someone standing on her porch stairs, her smile now entirely his. A tall man with dark clothes and even darker hair: Sebastian. He tucked her soft hair behind her ears before pulling her in for a deep kiss. She threw her arms over his shoulders.</p>
<p>Shane felt the air leave his chest. He quickly turned back to the path, jammed his hands in his pockets and started walking more quickly. The sweat was pooling under his arms and on his back under the hoodie.</p>
<p>He wondered if there was still beer in the fridge, and he told himself over, and over, and over that he was fine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Simple Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Friday night, and Grace was on her third slice of leftover pizza. She still didn’t have a microwave -- let alone the counter space for it in her tiny kitchen -- and she couldn’t be bothered to turn on the oven, so she was just chowing it down cold. The Queen of Sauce was making a complex fish dinner, simply calling it “carp surprise,” and Grace was taking a few mental notes between bites. The irony of watching a cooking show while eating garbage wasn’t lost on her. Especially after feeding Rusty a new fancy canned beef dog food for his dinner (an impulse purchase, but worth it). She peered over the back of the couch to check he was still comfortably asleep on her bedroom floor.</p>
<p>She felt her phone buzz from underneath her ribs and fished it out of the couch cushion. A text from Sebastian. He’d sent a video of Sam doing a keg stand in the midst of a rowdy house party. She grinned and sent back an ugly selfie, then a heart. The gang was out of town this weekend for Abigail’s cousin’s wife’s birthday party, or something. Seb had invited her, but they were driving Robin’s beat-up old hatchback. No, thanks.</p>
<p>Her phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Emily. Grace tapped the message. <i>Bar tonight?</i> Then: <i>Please save me</i> with a skull and hammer emoji. Grace laughed out loud. So the town blacksmith was trying to make a move on Emily. Again. She replied: <i>Only if the first drink is free.</i> Emily replied almost instantly: <i>Yes ofc.</i></p>
<p>Guess Grace was going out tonight, then. </p>
<p>With a groan and creaks of protest from her joints, Grace hauled herself off the couch and brushed the pizza crumbs off her chest. On her way to her room to change, she paused and checked herself out in the bathroom mirror. She prodded her soft cheeks and freckled nose, the harsh tanlines on her arms and shoulders. She admired the new muscles in her biceps, squeezing and turning her arms with a grin. She tugged up her shirt and ogled the pooch in her stomach, the softness of her hips. She grabbed her tummy and squeezed it with a laugh. She’d been all thin lines and hard edges during her high-stress Joja Corp job. It had only gotten worse in her grief. These days, she was feeling whole and good. The girl in the mirror winked back at her.</p>
<p>She pulled on a thin sweater, jeans and sneakers, and a light jacket. Then with a quick wash of her face and desperate smoothing of her hair, she was out the door and headed into the town. By the time she got to Gus’s, her cheeks were pink and stinging from the autumn air.</p>
<p>She sidled up to the bar, catching Emily’s eye. The blue-haired girl grinned and waved, eager to get away from a conversation with Clint. The blacksmith was smeared over the bar, mustache wet with beer and eyes half closed in his stupor.</p>
<p>“Grace!” she squealed, setting a pint of beer on the bartop in front of her. “Soooo glad you’re here.” Grace gave a quick, meaningful glance over her shoulder at Clint, and Emily gave an indiscernible nod. </p>
<p>“Oh, yeah, well, just sorry I’m so late!” said Grace, a little too loudly for emphasis. Clint stared after Emily for a minute stupidly, then slid off the bar and retreated back to his usual table with Willy -- who seemed none too pleased with the return.</p>
<p>“Ha! Thanks for that. So good to see you, though, really,” said Emily in her normal tone, giving Grace’s hand a friendly squeeze. “How are you, my friend?”</p>
<p>“Ah, you know,” Grace answered, gesturing to the empty pool room. “I’m a free woman this evening.”</p>
<p>“Oh, a lady on the town,” crowed Emily. “No man, no shackles.”</p>
<p>Grace tilted her beer towards her friend, and Emily pulled her own out from under the bar to clink glasses. They chatted for a few minutes, but it wasn’t long before other customers demanded Emily’s attention and Grace was alone at the bar, sipping her beer.</p>
<p>After another few minutes, she noticed a huddled shadow in the corner of the room, shrunken into his hoodie and staring into his beer. Her heart jumped into her throat.</p>
<p>Shane was seated with his back to her, seemingly fixated on his beer. If she didn’t know better, Grace would’ve thought he’d been sitting there since her first night in town. Maybe his wooden chair had cheek marks carved in by now. The corner of Grace’s mouth twitched at the thought.</p>
<p>Leah strolled past him, on her way from hanging her windbreaker up on a hook in the corner. “Hiya, Shane!” she called, throwing her long braid back over her shoulder. “I saw Jas and Vincent wrestlin’ in the mud by the lake today. Total mess. Y’all are the wildest neighbors, I swear.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off.” He didn’t even look up from the table. </p>
<p>Grace smiled into her beer. Always a joy, that Shane. Leah, no stranger to the dark moods of her neighbor, put her hands up in a half-hearted “I tried” gesture. Then she headed back to her table, where Elliott was waiting with two glasses of red wine. Grace gave her a small smile from behind Shane’s back, and Leah smirked and rolled her eyes at Grace. Grace’s smile widened.</p>
<p>She noticed Shane was now swirling the dregs of his beer. She wondered if he saw her come in. </p>
<p>She should probably go say hi. It would be weirder not to. She tugged a lock of her hair anxiously before standing up.</p>
<p>Grace brought her beer with her to his table. Shane nearly jumped out of his skin when she said his name. His cheeks were a ruddy pink.</p>
<p>“Happy Friday,” she said, tilting her glass forward. He stared at her for a moment, then picked his glass up and tapped it to hers.</p>
<p>“I’ll drink to that.”</p>
<p>Grace stood awkwardly. Shane looked behind her, then met her eyes. “Here with anyone?” She shrugged. He gestured to the other seat at the table, and she reluctantly sat down.</p>
<p>Emily dropped by with a fresh pint for Shane, who thanked her gruffly. She shot Grace a questioning look, ready to offer the same rescue Grace had just provided her. “Need anything?” she asked in a weighted tone.</p>
<p>Grace said, “No, but thanks, Em,” and smiled widely to show all was well. Emily winked while Shane was looking away, then picked up his empty glass and let herself back behind the bar to serve her other customers.</p>
<p>They were quiet for a few minutes. Grace started. “Hey, Shane, I was--”</p>
<p>“Things good on the farm?” He cut her off. She blinked in surprise.</p>
<p>“Sure,” she said, not sure where to begin, instead running a finger around the rim of her glass. He watched it with mild curiosity.</p>
<p>“Growing any flowers?”</p>
<p>What a weird man. “Yes,” she answered. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Just making conversation,” he said in a dry tone, taking a sip of his beer. After a moment, he said, “Jas likes flowers. She loves fairy roses, actually.” Shane shook his head like he was reminding himself.</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>He looked up in surprise. “Marnie brought her by this summer,” Grace explained. “We picked her a bouquet.”</p>
<p>“Ah. Yeah. That explains it, then.” He tugged out his phone and tapped the screen a few times before handing it to Grace. It was a picture from this summer. Little Jas, her thick black hair tied up in buns, her bright blue eyes shining in the sunlight, was clutching a bouquet of fairy roses in assorted colors and grinning. Smiling, Grace handed the phone back.</p>
<p>“She’s the cutest thing.”</p>
<p>“Yup.”</p>
<p>Another pause. He moved his glass back and forth between his hands. Grace tapped her foot anxiously. Then: “Maybe I’ll grow some more in spring, in exchange for...I don’t know, advice.”</p>
<p>“Advice about what?”</p>
<p>“Well...farm animals.” He did live on a ranch. And she didn’t know anything about farming beyond her plants.</p>
<p>Shane raised his eyebrows. “Not too fair a trade.”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>“Because I’m an expert.”</p>
<p>“Well, here’s hoping your rate’s cheap.”</p>
<p>“Worth more than a few weeds, I think.”</p>
<p>Grace rubbed her nose, conscious her cheeks were starting to heat up from the beer. “What’s there to know? Food, water, shelter.”</p>
<p>“That’s hardly it.”</p>
<p>“Then tell me.”</p>
<p>And like that, Shane was off. Yoba, did the man know about animals. Grace knew already he was great with Rusty, but...wow. She listened for a while, asking questions only when needed. After Shane ran out of steam, he asked her about her farm, what she was growing in the fall, what price she’d squeeze out of Pierre. And then how she was going to pickle, can, ferment and cook everything she grew. And he was giving her advice. Mostly unsolicited.</p>
<p>Emily stopped by sometimes to replace their glasses. The beer kept flowing. The bar noise got quieter and quieter.</p>
<p>“Guys…” They suddenly turned to see Emily standing next to them, wringing a dishcloth. “We’re, um...we’re closed.”</p>
<p>Yoba, it must be late. Shane, used to getting the boot at the Saloon, heaved himself up and out of the chair and slapped a few dollars on the table. He headed to the door and looked back expectantly at Grace.</p>
<p>She wasn’t ready for the night to end. Not yet.</p>
<p>Grace stood and leaned in closer to Emily, beer on her breath. “Em…” she started, but Emily’s eyes were wide with understanding. She wiggled her eyebrows as a question, and Grace raised one back. Emily giggled and winked.</p>
<p>Sure enough, as Grace was walking to the door, she saw Emily say something and point Gus to the back room. He hurried away -- a diversion! As soon as he was out of sight, Emily tugged a bottle of whiskey out and heaved herself over the bar, arm extended. Grace ran over and took it, whispered a “thank you!,” and pushed a very surprised Shane out the door. </p>
<p>Once on the street, Grace tugged Shane by the sweatshirt sleeve down the hill towards the river. He followed willingly, eyes still wide in surprise. They stopped on the bridge and Grace popped the top off the bottle.</p>
<p>“What the hell was that?” asked Shane, watching Grace take a sip of the whiskey and shudder.</p>
<p>“Girl code,” she said in a raspy voice, passing the bottle. “You have to take a drink if you don’t get it.”</p>
<p>“Alright.” Shane gladly took a slug, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Well, you have to take a drink if that was the first time you’ve been kicked out of a bar at closing.” He passed the bottle back.</p>
<p>“Not my first time!”</p>
<p>“Mm. Out of Gus’s bar?”</p>
<p>“Okay, you got me there.” She took a sip and handed it back. “You have to drink if...you hate Joja.”</p>
<p>He drank. “You have to drink if you don’t know anything about chickens.”</p>
<p>“You said you’d teach me!”</p>
<p>They passed the bottle back and forth and ambled down the path to the beach, stopping only once they reached the shoreline.</p>
<p>“So...should I be worried?” asked Shane, swinging the bottle. Grace, sitting in the sand and tugging off her sneakers, looked up at him in surprise. Shane gestured at the two of them with his free hand. “Us hanging out. Is Sebastian going to come drown me off the dock or smother me with a band tee?”</p>
<p>Grace raised her eyebrows. He never acknowledged Sebastian. “I can have friends, you know. Seb’s not some kind of--”</p>
<p>“Goth? Dork? Asshole?”</p>
<p>“Dream boat? Yes, yes he is.” She smiled, only imagining what Sebastian would have to say about Shane if he’d heard that. </p>
<p>“Maybe by small town standards.” Shane was sitting now, pulling off his shoes too, shaking sand out of his sneakers and frowning. His thick eyebrows were scrunched together.</p>
<p>“By all standards.” She pulled off her socks and rolled up her jeans neatly. “You just don’t have any.” She flexed her toes in the grainy, cool sand.</p>
<p>Shane poured a shot into the sand and in a mockingly defeated tone said, “Got me there, farmer. Pour one out for my standards.”</p>
<p>She snatched the bottle back and took an ambitious gulp, the burning in her throat turning to heat in her stomach. “Don’t waste it,” she gasped, her vision tilting.</p>
<p>Shane laughed and reached for the bottle, but she danced out of reach, stepping back into the chilly ocean water until the bottoms of her cuffed jeans were soaked. She wiggled the bottle at him, taunting him until he groaned, heaved himself to his feet and followed her into the water. He shivered dramatically. She passed him the bottle.</p>
<p>“Lighten up, Shane,” she laughed. He was grimacing with each little wave on his legs. “It’s the beach.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like the beach.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, you don’t like anything.”</p>
<p>She wanted to slap herself for being so blunt. But Shane didn’t mind. He tilted the bottle in acknowledgement and took a glug.</p>
<p>“Really, though. You shouldn’t be out here with me,” he warned, gesturing to Elliott’s cabin nestled back at the treeline, one light still on. “They’ll tell Sebby.”</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up,” she said, exasperated. Shane put his hand on his stomach and gave a full-bellied laugh. His legs nearly buckled under him and he steadied himself. Grace realized she liked him this loose. This Shane had no walls.</p>
<p>It only took a night of drinking to get there.</p>
<p>“Why are you putting up with me?” he asked, still chuckling.</p>
<p>She shrugged. “You’re fun, I guess. And not full of shit.”</p>
<p>“Of course I’m full of shit, farmer!” he laughed at her. “Everyone’s full of shit. That’s life in a small town.”</p>
<p>Grace threw her hands up. “Not all of it! I like the farm, and soon I’ll have little animals, and the plants -- Yoba, my plants are so nice--”</p>
<p>“You need more friends,” Shane teased, kicking a little water at her.</p>
<p>Grace slammed her foot into the water and sent a torrent at Shane. His shirt and pants were soaked. He snatched the whiskey bottle back out of her hand in retaliation and took a drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing.</p>
<p>“Bold, coming from you,” she retorted.</p>
<p>“I’ve got friends.”</p>
<p>“Your aunt doesn’t count, loser.”</p>
<p>He frowned in mock insult. She dipped her fingers in the shallow waves and spritzed them at Shane. He shrunk back.</p>
<p>“What’s not to like about Pelican Town?” she asked. “The grass is greener here. Probably literally. And the people are so nice.”</p>
<p>He waved a hand absentmindedly. “You’re off your rocker. No one would really choose to live in a small dump like this.”</p>
<p>Grace’s eyebrows knit together. The cold ocean waves on her calves were creating ripples of goosebumps all over her body. “I did, though.”</p>
<p>He looked at her curiously, warm eyes suddenly burning. “Why?”</p>
<p>She wriggled under his attention. “What?”</p>
<p>“Why? What do you want in Pelican Town? Like, why did you move here, really?” He was serious now. She was pinned under his gaze. For how fun Shane could be, she forgot that her first impressions still held true: he could also be dark, intense, and unrelenting.</p>
<p>She dug her feet into the sand, wavering and tipsy, wondering at the feeling between her toes. “I don’t know,” she said after a pause. “The new life. The independence. The land and...stuff.”</p>
<p>Shane shook his head and took another drink. “But really, Grace,” he said, his voice low, and her cheeks flushed when he said her name. “What do you want?”</p>
<p>To succeed with her farm. To earn her own living. To live independently, and never rely on another soul again. To fall in love, and be wanted more than anything. To see her parents again. To never be alone again.</p>
<p>She dug her toes into the sand. “I want a good life.”</p>
<p>“What makes a good life?” he probed. “ What do you mean? Money and security? A home or a farm? Marriage? Kids? What?”</p>
<p>“I...I want...everything,” she finally said. “I want it all.”</p>
<p>Shane was finally smiling again. “All?”</p>
<p>“All!”</p>
<p>“Tell me what you want,” he yelled into the wind.</p>
<p>Grace threw her head back. “I want it all!” she screamed into the ocean.</p>
<p>“What do you want!” he yelled back.</p>
<p>“All of it!” Grace screamed at the water again. “I want everything!”</p>
<p>Her hair was whipping and blowing in the wind and her nerves crackled like lightning. She swayed a little, even could’ve vomited, but screamed again instead.</p>
<p>They laughed together at the chaos of the ocean and the wind battering their skulls. Their vision was shaky, and they collapsed back onto the sand in a fit of drunken madness.</p>
<p>After Grace stopped laughing and her breath evened out, she sat up, digging her feet into the warm sand and wriggling her toes. Shane stayed a few feet away, taking a long drink from the bottle and gazing at the horizon, his face hardened. She sensed his walls coming up again.</p>
<p>Grace turned to him, hand extended for the bottle. He held it just out of her reach, pulling it back a little every time she leaned to take it. Finally, she pinched his thigh, and he groaned and handed her the bottle.</p>
<p>She took a fiery shot, then asked him, “What about you?”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“What do you want?”</p>
<p>He was quiet. “Me?”</p>
<p>Grace flicked a little sand at him but he didn’t move, keeping his gaze locked forward and leaning back on one elbow. The ocean tugged at their feet as the tide crept in. The starry night was as dark as Grace had ever seen it, and the only things she could hear were the waves and her own breathing.</p>
<p>Then: “Nothing at all.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. This Side of Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sebastian and Grace have fallen into a comfortable, easy relationship, and she's chasing happiness in the present. </p>
<p>Disclaimer that Shane isn't in this one, it's truly just very establishing of Grace's current state of things! We love Shane, and Grace is fascinated with him, too, but she's happy in love and needs to deal with her own problems first.</p>
<p>And honestly this chapter is a little rougher than usual! Please forgive any typos, bad grammar or bad writing. Promise quality is going back up next time :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grace woke up to the sun in her eyes and a dog panting in her face. Groaning, she tried to roll over, but found Sebastian’s strong back blocking her way. She was cornered between Seb and the wall. Rusty stood over her, eager for his day to start, and licked her cheek and nose.</p>
<p>“Augh!” she cried, trying and failing to push her dog off her. She heard a low chuckle from the man next to her. “You turd, get out of the way,” she slurred in a sleepy morning voice.</p>
<p>“Not a chance,” came the muffled reply. “I let him out yesterday. My turn to sleep in.” Grace shifted, nearly sending Rusty tumbling, and pinched Seb’s butt. He yelped and tried to swat her hand away, but she pinched him again.</p>
<p>“Scoot your boot!” she cackled.</p>
<p>“Crawl over me!” he replied. “I’m not moving.” He turned over to face her, his smiles still soft from sleep and eyes crinkled. He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, slow and easy, letting the sunlight on her spill into his dark hair. He pulled back with an impish smile and wrinkled his nose. “Morning breath.”</p>
<p>She let out a foul breath in his face, then crawled clumsily over her stubborn man to the edge of the bed. Rusty followed suit, trodding over Seb’s middle and eliciting a pained “oof!”</p>
<p>As Grace watched Rusty take a few laps around her yard then return for his kibble breakfast, she reflected on the simple joy of her Saturday morning.</p>
<p>Mornings with Seb were so easy. Just the two of them, adrift in coupled bliss but moored to the first tendrils of sunshine, reality at bay for a few precious minutes. Grace had been waking up in an empty bed for a long time before Sebastian came into her life. She’d treasure these days while she still could.</p>
<p>Alone in her kitchen, she allowed herself to briefly disappear into her disillusionment. These days made it easy to remind herself to stay, even if they still had an expiration date: Grace’s future was Pelican Town, Seb’s aspirations were beyond it. A temporary joy was better than an indefinite isolation. Why shouldn’t she be happy, even if just for now? Even if Sebastian hadn’t yet realized they were doomed.</p>
<p>She’d become quite good at closing this corner of her heart. But sometimes, the door cracked open, and she would succumb to a few moments of pure sadness at the loss still to come.</p>
<p>Which was how Sebastian found her in the kitchen, holding the coffee pot under the sink and staring out the window, water from the tap overflowing the pot. He hastily turned the water off before wrapping his arms around her from behind. “You’ve still got sleep clouding your eyes,” he whispered into her ear teasingly, tickling her. “Don’t worry, love. I’ve got you.”</p>
<p>She sighed and leaned back into his embrace. It was cool this morning, even inside her house, and he was wrapped up in her favorite hoodie of his. Must have found it where it was stashed under her fresh laundry pile, she realized regretfully. No matter. She’d just have to poach it right back again.</p>
<p>They had a leisurely breakfast, Sebastian reading the news on his phone. Grace was completing a crossword in the local newspaper and occasionally broke the silence to get his input with the hard questions.</p>
<p>Eventually, they got dressed for the day and kissed goodbye on the porch. Sebastian had to finish a project for a client before band practice this afternoon, and it was easiest on his dual-monitor setup at his parents’ house. Grace needed to clear some plants that had died in last weekend’s overnight frost. She promised she’d swing by band practice and they finally parted with one, two, three last kisses.</p>
<p>Life was good these days.</p>
<p>Most of Grace’s morning was dedicated to chopping and hacking her deceased plantlife. Despite the chilly autumn air, she was red-faced and pouring sweat by the time she took a late lunch break. She plopped onto the porch, panting slightly, and wolfed down a couple of sandwiches and a hot tea. Rusty was curled up beside her, watching her eat reproachfully, waiting for a scrap with big puppy eyes. To her credit, she made him sit up and shake before she surrendered a slice of ham.</p>
<p>She watched the shadows from the trees framing her property dance with the wind. Already it was obvious they were getting longer. The day was a little cool for how early it was in the autumn season. She took it as a fair warning -- she needed to get her shit together for winter. </p>
<p>She blew on her tea a little, contemplating the change. Never for a moment had Grace doubted she did the right thing for herself by moving to Pelican Town and revamping Hillcrest Farm. (Sebastian called it “rebooting,” the nerd.) But if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t have much left in her savings, and she wasn’t exactly turning a strong profit here. It was fine to live off of as long as she was still selling, she acknowledged as she took a long, warming drag from her tea mug. But it wasn’t enough to sustain through a season without new produce growing. </p>
<p>Maybe she should text Shane, ask him or Marnie for advice. She palmed the phone in her overalls pocket before thinking twice. This wasn’t important enough to text right now. It was the weekend, so she’d honestly probably be disrupting his hangover, or catching him in a regular old bad mood. And it was almost time to leave to head to meet Sebastian. She could ask him next time they saw each other instead.</p>
<p>After she finished her tea and gave her land one last, pleased glance, she headed inside to wash up and change, then she was off down the path to town. Fortunately, the group held band practice at Sam’s place, not Sebastian’s, so it was a quick walk over.</p>
<p>Jodi let her into the house with a sweet smile and “how do you do,” and Vincent showed her a few bugs in a jar, then she escaped into Sam’s room. The gang was in the middle of a heated debate, instruments abandoned. They paused when she came in.</p>
<p>“Grace!” cried Abigail, running over and tugging on her arm. “Finally!” Grace, eyes wide, let Abigail pull her in to link arms firmly. Abigail leveled a glare at the boys. “Help me talk some sense into these idiots.”</p>
<p>Grace tried and failed to disentangle herself from Abigail. “Whats, uh,” she stuttered. “What’s up?” With a firm yank, she finally freed her arm, and took a sidestep towards Sebastian.</p>
<p>Sam stepped in and blocked her path, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve gotta help us,” he begged, worry twisting his usual carefree face. His sincere concern stopped Grace in her place. But the mischief returned to his sparkling baby blues, and she shrugged off his hands and crossed her arms.</p>
<p>“With what?” she asked carefully. The three assembled in front of her, each prepared to make their case. </p>
<p>Music style. They couldn’t agree on music style for their band. Abigail wanted them to play cheerful pop, proposing that covers of successful women pop artists would garner the most attention from bigwig producers. Plus, the fans would love it. Sam was backing high-energy dance music: Abigail’s idea on steroids. If they could get the people moving, they’d have a loyal fan following in no time. And who doesn’t like to dance?! But Sebastian pitched experimental rock noise. He was in it for the art, they all should be, and whoever liked their music would like it authentically because it was their own.</p>
<p>After each made their case, they awaited Grace’s verdict with bated breath. She tapped a finger to her chin, trying to remember what she liked to listen to on her old analog radio at home. “What about...country?” she suggested. The three blanched. She grinned and doubled down. “Like, not even classic or popular country. But really down-to-earth, honky-tonk country. Cowbell and all.”</p>
<p>They all groaned. “Grace, take this seriously!” begged Sebastian. She laughed and scratched the back of her head. Behind Sam’s and Abigail’s backs, Seb had his hands clasped together to beg. Little did he know that in front of him, Sam had turned on his puppy dog eyes in full force. And Abigail looked strained, fingertips to her temple, like she was trying to send a psychic message to Grace.</p>
<p>Grace’s mouth turned down and she held her chin, truly pondering each of their suggestions. After a tense few moments, she looked up with determination and stated her decision: “Let the people dance.”</p>
<p>Sam whooped and squeezed Grace in a bone-crushing hug, lifting her off the ground. “Thank you thank you thank you!” he wheezed, eliciting glares from his companions. And when he set Grace down, he added quietly, “Though I also could have also gone for honky-tonk country.” He gave her side a little elbow and shot a heart-melting wink, and Grace couldn’t help but grin back. </p>
<p>Sam was a dose of pure sunshine at any time of day. If she’d had her childhood friend by her side these last few years, maybe she’d have arrived at happiness a bit sooner. At the least, she was glad to have him back now.</p>
<p>Seb’s arms crept around her middle and his lips pressed against her ear. “Was sort of hoping you’d vote with your boyfriend,” he murmured.</p>
<p>She leaned back into his embrace. It felt like home in his arms. “No special privileges in democracy,” she replied with a soft smile.</p>
<p>Too late, they saw Abigail and Sam making dramatized gagging faces. “We get it!” Sebastian groaned, exasperated. “We’ll take our leave, then!” And with a few goodbye hugs and promises of pool at Gus’s tomorrow night, Seb swung Grace out of the door.</p>
<p>On their way through the town center, Seb paused Grace under a streetlight and promised her patience with a kiss. Then he disappeared into Pierre’s General Store and returned a few moments later with a huge bouquet. </p>
<p>“Oh wow, Seb,” she gasped, burying her nose in the soft flowers. The sharp edges and planes of his thin face were softened, and he gave her a sweet, shy smile.</p>
<p>“I think about you,” he said softly. “All the time. And I just…” he trailed off. </p>
<p>He wasn’t always great at saying what he felt. Fortunately, Grace knew his heart was hers, and she stood on her toes to promise him with a kiss that hers was his, too.</p>
<p>“Can’t believe you still got these for me after that vote,” she teased. Sebastian tucked a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly.</p>
<p>“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” he laughed. “But that’s what I love about you. You’re honest to yourself and with us. Even if it’s not always convenient.”</p>
<p>Grace felt a pang in her chest and she buried her face in the flowers once more, before allowing Seb to take her hand and walk her home.</p>
<p>After dinner, he hurriedly cleaned the dishes, then told her he had a surprise for her. “Meet me outside my parents’ house in half an hour.” She promised, then watched him jog up the path with curiosity. Always the romantic, that one.</p>
<p>After a cup of tea and a bit of scrolling on her phone, she locked up and headed up the mountain path. Sebastian was waiting for her in the gravel driveway outside Robin and Demetrius’s house, straddling his classic old motorcycle. This was the first time she’d seen it off of a jack stand in his garage, let alone functional.</p>
<p>“Hey, Grace,” he called over his shoulder with a smile. “Great timing.” The machine rumbled under him. Grace walked up to Sebastian in awe, running her hand over the handlebars then up his arms to rest on his shoulder.</p>
<p>“I had no idea...you got it running?” she asked in awe. His cheeks pinkened and he ducked his head. It was so sweet she could scream. She moved her hand to his jaw and turned his face to hers. “You’re incredible.” </p>
<p>His gray eyes glowed and he pressed his lips to hers softly. She felt the vibrations from the machine through his kiss, and was surprised to realize it thrilled her.</p>
<p>“Hop on,” Seb murmured into her lips, barely audible. “I want to show you something.”</p>
<p>Grace hesitated and he sensed it. He wrapped his hands around hers and squeezed gently. He was warm on this cold autumn night, and she moved closer. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “It’s safe, Grace. I promise.” Maybe he didn’t know her life story, but he knew what made her worry, and he could read the smallest of creases on her forehead. These days, he could make her feel safe like no one else.</p>
<p>Seb didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep, and Grace was tired of closing doors on signs of trust. Despite every cell in her being begging her to stop, she slung a leg over the back of the seat. He plopped a helmet on her head and buckled it for her tenderly. </p>
<p>“Okay, babe,” she said in a firm voice. “Let’s do it.” Then she buried her face in his shoulder, clasped her hands around his middle, and begged her heart to slow.</p>
<p>With a firm kick, he put the bike in gear and it roared to life. Gravel splashed behind them as he tore out of the driveway, down the mountain road, and towards the highway. As soon as the wheels hit asphalt, they were flying. The wind whipped Grace’s hair and stung her face. The purr of the motorcycle made her feel like she was riding something alive. But the seat was wide and the wheels steady. And with Sebastian securely under her arms and calm at the stead, she felt her anxieties start to melt away.</p>
<p>Finally, Grace picked her head up to peek to their side and gasped. The highway was wide and carved a path through the mountains surrounding Stardew Valley. Sebastian was taking them higher and higher. From their current spot, the moon was sitting snugly between two peaks, setting the forests aglow. She could see specks of light in the bottom of the valley where Pelican Town lay sleeping. And beyond that, the dance of the moonlight on the open sea.</p>
<p>It was beautiful beyond imagination.</p>
<p>Sebastian must have heard her gasp because he leaned back into her ever-so-gently. The sound of the wind and the roar of the engine made it too loud to talk. But that’s okay. Grace knew Seb didn’t need words to say what he meant. So she squeezed her arms around him more tightly in silent appreciation.</p>
<p>At last, the road began to narrow and the bike began to slow. Sebastian pulled gently to the side of the highway, taking a turnoff so hidden in tree cover Grace had almost missed it, and drew them to a quiet stop at the end of the road. Feeling pleased but shaky, Grace let him help her off the bike and take off her helmet. Then he took her hand and walked her out from under the trees.</p>
<p>At the end of the road, beyond the edges of the trees framing the road, was a steep dropoff. The fencing was mostly broken or gone and there were no other signs of life. So their view from the mountaintop of the sprawling cityscape ahead was uninterrupted.</p>
<p>Grace’s hand felt clammy in Sebastian’s warm one and her skin broke out in goosebumps. The mountain air was cold, and Seb wrapped his arm over her shoulders and pulled him in.</p>
<p>“That’s Zuzu City in the distance,” he said quietly, in awe. Grace remained silent, taking in the piercing skyline. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could still hear the roar of heavy traffic and smell the stench of city grime. She winced seeing the artificial lights soak the sky in light pollution, casting a false sunset. It was obvious Sebastian saw this sight as his sunrise.</p>
<p>“I come out here when I want to get away from everything,” Seb continued. “I just...think.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. Her heart felt ready to swell out of her chest and she closed her eyes for a moment to take it in.</p>
<p>They stood like that for a moment, cool mountain air tickling the hairs at the base of their necks and stars winking from their banishment at the dark fringe of the horizon.</p>
<p>Sebastian broke the silence. “So? What do you think?”</p>
<p>Grace looked up at him with caution. His face was open, eager and vulnerable. This place was special to him. And he was special to her.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful,” she lied effortlessly. His face split into a grin, skin the color of the moon and just as bright. His smile was contagious to her, always, and she smiled sweetly right back. </p>
<p>“The city just draws me in,” he confessed, his eyes averted. “Something about that many people, that much life in one place, it lights something in me.”</p>
<p>Grace felt a deep, familiar ache open in her chest but she wore her mask firmly. “I know it’s important to you, Seb,” she replied, answering a question he didn’t yet know to ask. </p>
<p>He was wrestling with something, she could see it in his tension, in his silence. He remained fixed on the vision before him. Zuzu City was screaming its invitation to him. But this sight, this private view, it was only his. And he chose to share it with her. Like he read her mind, he said quietly, “You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” His voice was hoarse and desperate.</p>
<p>Grace was quiet, absorbing the sprawl of the city on the horizon in juxtaposition with the kind man from the mountain home and the heart as open as the valley. Looking away from his anxious face, she replied, “I love that you know what you want in your future and that you’re not afraid to chase it. I love that you’re driven and passionate. I really do.” </p>
<p>She couldn’t hold herself back anymore and buried her face into his chest, between either side of his hard leather jacket and into the center of his soft dark hoodie. He was still wearing her favorite one. Sometimes she wore it in the morning, when she inevitably woke up before him, to make coffee and breakfast. And he’d wake up to see her wearing it and handing him a plate in bed, and it’d make him fall even deeper in love with her every time. She inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the exact combination of his musky scent and the biting autumn air, and suppressed the urge to cry.</p>
<p>She felt a soft kiss on the top of her head and then a cheek resting there. His arms were steady around her as ever. “I know you do,” answered Sebastian quietly, soberly. “I hope you know -- I hope you always know -- you’re my future, too, Grace. You’re the heart of all my aspirations.”</p>
<p>Grace covertly wiped her face in his hoodie, knowing full well that his future would depart from hers someday, then looked up at him. They watched each other for a moment, then fell into a kiss.</p>
<p>Soon they’d be back at the farm, under a ratty blanket and curled up with cups of herbal tea, watching re-runs of community programming on the tv and listening to Rusty snore. They’d bicker about the best movies until a call from Sam would force them off their asses and down to the bar. They’d play a few rounds of pool, jam to a few songs on the jukebox, and retire with a pleasant buzz back to house only to collapse into bed and each other. They’d fuck slowly and tenderly before falling asleep in a chaotic tangle of limbs. And they couldn’t wait to do it again the next night. </p>
<p>Grace couldn’t freeze time, but a part of her would live forever in these days, and she feared what happened to that part of her when the winds changed.</p>
<p>Finally they pulled apart, mutually comforted and both nipped from the cold. Seb ran his fingers through her hair tenderly, with love in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh babe, I just have to be honest with you,” he said sweetly. His silver eyes glinted. “Your hair is really fucked up from the helmet.” She swatted his arm and he yelped in surprise, and just like that they were laughing.</p>
<p>Then he kicked the bike to life and with a roar, they disappeared under the tree cover and were swallowed up by the shadows of the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Heat Wave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shane swings by the farm, and does he look good today or what? Grace isn't thinking straight. Must be the heat.</p>
<p>NSFW content in this chapter!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fuck, it was hot out.</p>
<p>The autumn sun was cooking the valley alive. Grace was panting, her shirt nearly soaked through with sweat, and seriously considering drinking straight out of her watering can. She glared at Rusty, who was lolling in the shade on her porch, blissfully asleep. Lucky bastard.</p>
<p>It was a miserable way for the season to regress. She had been starting to enjoy the days cooling off. Instead, she and Sebastian practically had to peel themselves apart that morning in bed. It was nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix...and they had certainly taken their time that morning.</p>
<p>She tilted her hat forward, cutting the sun out of her direct line of sight, and kept meticulously watering her tomatoes. During the heat wave, they needed two waterings a day, and this hand watering was killing her. Total waste of time.</p>
<p>Just as her can ran dry again and she contemplated joining Rusty on the porch, she heard her name. Under the tall, ragged pines, she saw a shock of curly brown hair coming up the southern path. She waved, then bolted inside to grab a couple iced teas. </p>
<p>Shane was visibly panting by the time he got to her house, and she pretended not to notice.</p>
<p>“Yoba...it’s...un...fucking...real…” he gasped, accepting the tea and taking a huge gulp. A couple drops trickled down from the corners of his mouth, into his stubble, past his Adam’s apple and down to meet the sweat in the hollow of his throat. Grace’s mouth was suddenly very dry. She pretended not to notice that, either, and rubbed her nose.</p>
<p>Shane caught his breath. “What the fuck is going on with this heat wave?” he asked, flailing his arms. Grace stifled a giggle.</p>
<p>He pointed a finger. “This is on you, farmer.”</p>
<p>“Me?” she asked innocently, hands up.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t like this last fall. I swear. You brought a curse or something with you from the city, I just know it.”</p>
<p>Grace rolled her eyes. She was used to Shane being dramatic by now.</p>
<p>He’d been dropping by more and more lately, mostly for no reason, but usually with a half-decent pretense. A couple weekends ago, it was to fix some fencing around her pea sprouts. And last week, he’d given her some of Marnie’s canning supplies with the strong recommendation to hurry up and prepare for winter. She’d made some pepper poppers from his recipe to thank him, and he’d nearly gagged burning his mouth on one straight out of the pan. She’d lectured him on the virtue of patience, but before she’d finished he’d already burned his tongue on another one.</p>
<p>At least he liked to help out. He still wouldn’t let her go into the shed, and he made quick work of picking and packing her produce to sell at Pierre’s.</p>
<p>They walked around her land with their iced teas, Shane pointing here and there at areas where Grace needed to add nitrogen to the soil, or trim back extra stalks so her plants wouldn’t waste energy on non-fruit-bearing growths. They stopped in front of a large clearing.</p>
<p>“You should start a coop here,” Shane announced.</p>
<p>“A chicken coop? To raise chickens?” This must have been the tenth time Shane’s brought up chickens with her. But Grace still didn’t know the first thing about chickens.</p>
<p>Shane nodded wisely. “Easiest thing in the world. And,” he said, his face a little darker. “Not a bad idea to have eggs to sell once the crops are buried in a snowdrift.”</p>
<p>The other day, Grace had been at Sebastian’s to play Solarion Chronicles with him and Sam, and Demetrius had said something ominously similar. “‘Don’t have to worry about crops in the winter,’” Grace wondered aloud at Demetrius’s comment.</p>
<p>Shane shrugged. “If you give her the lumber, Robin could have the coop up in a few days flat for a couple hundred bucks. Then stop by the ranch for a few chicks and hay. Easy enough.”</p>
<p>Grace started back towards the farmhouse, and Shane reluctantly followed. “I don’t have the time,” she said, gesturing at her thriving plant life. The wind bent them towards her, like they were reaching for their mother. She eyed the dry, sun-bleached soil with distaste.</p>
<p>Shane ruffled his hair in the wind, shaking the curls out. “If it makes you happy to water all day, go for it. But I’d bet good money that there’s a hose or two in that shed.”</p>
<p>Grace watched the sun sprinkle through Shane’s loose locks and set his damp skin aglow. “Okay, deal,” she said, tearing her eyes away. “If you can set it up so I don’t have to water by hand anymore, then I’ll get chickens.”</p>
<p>“You’re on, farmer.” He smiled widely, the corners of his eyes creasing. They weren’t puffy today, she realized, and the dark circles were gone. He saluted, then ducked into the dark shed. After a few short minutes, he was already back out, arms loaded with hoses and sprinklers and timers, and just like that he was on the move.</p>
<p>“Grace!” he called from the spigot on the side of her house.</p>
<p>“You’re going to love having chickens,” he yelled from the fields where he planted the sprinklers firmly between rows.</p>
<p>“Swear I’ll help you, too,” he said from by her side again, fiddling with the timers.</p>
<p>Watching him run around in the heat made her dizzy. “That’s right,” she remembered. “Marnie says you help her with the chickens.”</p>
<p>Shane attached the last timer to the spigot and turned triumphantly. “Damn right.”</p>
<p>He was radiating confidence, and Yoba, it looked so fucking good on him. His broad shoulders and chest, sturdy frame, and strong arms and legs looked carved from stone. Sweat trickled down his stubbled jaw, and Grace wondered how it would feel to lick it off. Then horror struck her like lightning, and she looked away.</p>
<p>Fuck. Nope.</p>
<p>The heat must be getting to her. That’s it. Must be the heat.</p>
<p>“I go crazy for anything to do with chickens,” said Shane, gazing with admiration at his handiwork, oblivious to her thoughts and shaking her out of her guilt. She looked at him in surprise.</p>
<p>“You’re a freak,” she retorted. He laughed, and his face dropped a few more years. He almost looked happy.</p>
<p>Soft clouds rolled over Pelican Town, hazy in the humidity. The trees danced and whispered in the wind, blinking in and out of the cloud shade. The sun bathed them in yellow, then orange, then pink hues. With the first star of the evening, the crickets began their evening serenade.</p>
<p>That night, Sebastian brought a growler of beer and a pizza from Gus’s, and they chowed down in front of Queen of Sauce on the old TV. Seb had to get up twice to adjust the antennae, and once to kick it, but Grace was pleased to learn a few new cooking tricks. Seb, too often a test subject to her kitchen experiments, remained adamant that she shouldn’t be cooking, ever.</p>
<p>After cleaning up, they lounged in front of the open windows in the farmhouse, welcoming the evening breeze, and wondering aloud if this heat wave was truly summer’s last gasp. At last, they stood and stretched, ready to migrate to bed. Grace moved to turn out the porch light, but froze when she saw something on the porch railing. She stepped out to grab it. It was a small statue of a chicken, very old and worn. Could only be from one person. She smiled to herself.</p>
<p>Seb was quick to spot it when she came in. “What is that? Trash?” he asked.</p>
<p>Grace brushed him off. “Probably,” she replied, setting it in the kitchen window above her sink.</p>
<p>Seb looked closely at the statue, then back at Grace. His eyebrows were furrowed. Yoba, she didn’t like that look.</p>
<p>He’d been patient with her growing friendship with Shane, even though she could tell it irritated the hell out of him.</p>
<p>She took his hand and he begrudgingly followed to the bedroom. He was silent as he followed. The evening breeze made the temperature bearable again and helped to cool Sebastian’s mood. She pulled him in for a slow kiss.</p>
<p>Reluctantly, he pulled his arms up around her, and they stood there for a few minutes, lost in each other’s mouths. Outside, the crickets and owls chirped and cooed, and the moon cast thick beams onto her bedspread.</p>
<p>Gradually, Seb released his arms and ran his fingers under the bottom of her tank top. He slid them up and pulled it over her head, releasing her mouth once only briefly, then again to pull his own shirt off. She unlatched and dropped her bra. They met again, skin on skin, and he lazily cupped and squeezed her breast.</p>
<p>His tongue edged into her mouth as he ran his fingers down her ribs to her soft stomach, then down to her jean shorts. He popped the button and zipper with one hand, the other holding the small of her back, and he firmly tugged the shorts down. The cool breeze met her damp underwear and Grace gave a small shiver.</p>
<p>Sebastian’s hand traced the band of her panties, biding his time and kissing her neck softly. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he whispered.</p>
<p>Grace looked at him and held him in her mind’s eye, his thin face and its angles sharp, his eyes hungry. She ran her fingers up the planes of his firm, smooth chest. But another face swam into view, with eyes chocolate and crinkled in the sun, and hair untamed and wild. She thought about Shane’s smile and that today, it was just for her. She thought about putting her finger in the dimple in his chin. She thought about his stubble, and the small tuft of hair at the collar of his t-shirt, and imagined his broad chest, and whether his chest had any hair, and whether it went all the way down…</p>
<p>“Me too,” Grace lied, kissing Sebastian before he could see the distance in her eyes.</p>
<p>She thought about the drops of sweat on Shane’s jaw and wondered what would have happened if she had gone up, licked his strong jaw, kissed his neck. She imagined his sweet surprise, then him leaning in, his arms folding over her -- just as Seb slipped his hand into her panties and ran a finger over her clit.</p>
<p>Grace gasped with pleasure and fell into Seb’s mouth. He circled her slowly, enjoying her desperation, and held her up firmly with his other arm as her knees weakened. “Oh, Grace,” he whispered, applying just a little more pressure. She spasmed and buried her face in his neck with another gasp.</p>
<p>“Seb, please--” she begged, and he quickly pulled his hand out and drew her onto the bed. She lay back and he propped himself on his elbow beside her, kissing her while returning his hand below her pantyline.</p>
<p>His finger gently circled and rubbed her clit, and she moaned and twitched. Finally, with a firm bite on her lip, Sebastian pushed two fingers into her and curled them. Grace was aching for more. “Seb--” He cut her off with a kiss.</p>
<p>She moved her hand down to his tented boxer briefs, and he clenched his jaw when she ran her hand over his sensitive tip. She slipped her hand into his briefs and wrapped her fingers around him, starting an uneven but firm rhythm. He made a low sound and started moving his fingers inside faster.</p>
<p>Grace felt the tension building between her legs, and her toes curled and flexed in anticipation. Suddenly Seb’s hand was gone, instead desperately tugging her panties down and ripping off his own briefs. She opened her arms to him and he gladly fell in, leaning over her and nudging her thighs apart with his knees.</p>
<p>“Fuck me, Seb,” she whispered, kissing then sucking his neck. She felt him lining up to her entrance, and she shifted her hips to make it easier.</p>
<p>He kissed her deeply, licking into her mouth as he pushed into her with a sweet ache. She welcomed him with a groan. After all these months, their bodies were attuned to each other, and she was already so close to the edge.</p>
<p>Seb started a steady pace, rocking into her and moaning into her mouth. Grace felt heat building between her legs, in her stomach, everywhere. She folded her legs behind his back, encouraging him deeper. Seb picked up the pace gladly, now panting.</p>
<p>In a flash, she pictured the same scene, but with a different man over her.</p>
<p>She held Shane in her mind with wonder and tenderness. His stubble would scratch her face. His strong arms would be locked behind her neck. He’d be warm from the hard ranch work and the day in the sun. His cheeks would probably be tinged pink from exertion. </p>
<p>He’d probably kiss her with so much care.</p>
<p>Grace moaned at the thought, and Seb suddenly became shaky and jerky. With a final grunt, he slammed into her, and she teetered over the edge. “Oh, Sh--”</p>
<p>Fuck. The orgasm shook her and cut her off.</p>
<p>When she came back into her body, she realized Sebastian was lying next to her, already cleaning up with a washcloth. She watched him as her breathing steadied.</p>
<p>“Oh sh...shit, Seb,” she whispered, and he turned and smiled, his face innocent and his eyes only for her.</p>
<p>“I know,” he said, pulling her to his chest and kissing her forehead. She prayed to Yoba he didn’t.</p>
<p>She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine and squeezed her eyes shut, tried to clear unwanted thoughts from her mind.</p>
<p>The heat must be getting to her. That’s it. Must be the heat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Grapefruit Sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>We're jumping through time! Autumn is speeding by. Here are a few ways Grace has spent her time this fall.</p>
<p>So much love for all you reading and sticking with the story! I know it's an incredibly slow burn but the plot is picking up, I promise :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bitter wind bit through Grace’s jacket and she winced. Her legs were covered in goosebumps. Emily and Haley stood behind her, hands in their pockets. </p>
<p>“I told you we’re early,” said Haley, rolling her eyes and tossing her bouncy blonde curls over her shoulder. </p>
<p>Emily pushed up her sleeve with a handmade mitten and checked her watch. “We’re right on time,” she announced. </p>
<p>“I told you guys, it’s a quick walk,” said Grace, exasperated and a little wobbly. The girls had taken more than a few shots getting ready together at the sisters’ house. They were convinced it’d keep them warm enough to walk up the mountain trail, despite the frigid autumn night. (Haley had been less than convinced.) </p>
<p>“It’s better to be late,” grumbled Haley, shifting her weight between her heeled booties. “Who shows up early to townie shit like this?” </p>
<p>Suddenly the basement door was yanked open and they were face-to-face with a grinning Sam. “Who wouldn’t?”</p>
<p>His cheeks were already pink from alcohol. He was in his nice sneakers -- and his jeans didn’t have holes in them, for once. He tugged at the collar sticking out from under his pullover, the flush pinkening his neck too, then stepped aside to let them in. In a huff, Haley slipped off her puffy jacket and tossed it on Sam, then sauntered over to the drinks table. His eyes followed her across the room, admiring the way her tight navy dress hugged her round hips as she walked away.</p>
<p>Emily tossed her parka into Sam’s arms, too, revealing a lurid patterned pink dress underneath. She gave his cheek a friendly but firm pat on her way by.</p>
<p>Sam looked at Grace in surprise as she closed the door behind her. “What was that for?” he said.</p>
<p>She peeled off her fleece and handed it to him. “You must be the last one to know, bud.” She tugged down her tight skirt anxiously, checking that it was still covering her discreetly. </p>
<p>Suddenly Sam was distracted. “Grace, what happened?”</p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>“Did you forget your pants?”</p>
<p>She looked down in surprise, then realized he was joking, and gave him a swift punch in the arm. “Idiot.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t know you owned anything but denim, miss farmer.” He flung the jackets back into a corner pile. Grace winced, but decided not to tell Haley where her designer coat was until she’d had a few more drinks.</p>
<p>A shadow stepped out from the basement crowd. “Seb, make them stop hitting me,” called Sam.</p>
<p>Sebastian gave Grace a surprised look, taking her outfit in before scooping her into a deep kiss. The vodka made her feel fuzzy and his lips tasted like he’d been smoking. She smiled into his mouth. “Stop hitting Sam,” he whispered into hers.</p>
<p>“He didn’t like my skirt.” She fingered the hem of Sebastian’s navy shirt. His cheeks were pink, too, barely visible in the dim lighting. </p>
<p>“Ah. Well, in that case--” And Sebastian punched Sam in the arm, too.</p>
<p>Sam cringed and held up his hands in mock defeat. “Abandoned! Rejected! By my own friends. My comrades!”</p>
<p>“Oh, go talk to Haley, loser.” Grace gave him a little push before turning her attention back to Seb, tilting her head back expectantly and sliding her hands around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, too.</p>
<p>Sam’s face flushed pinker and he mumbled something incoherent before slipping into the dark and the crowd.</p>
<p>The youth of Stardew Valley had really turned out for this one. Grace saw everyone from town her own age, then saw Abigail standing with a few folks she didn’t know. Sebastian advised that they were friends from her intramural fencing team. There were a few folks Sam skateboarded with, a few more Alex played football with on the weekends. And the gang around Penny and Maru were a mix of grad students and nursing students from neighboring towns. Maru gave Grace a small wave, but only once Sebastian’s back was turned away. Grace shot her a covert peace sign.</p>
<p>“Babe, you look…” Sebastian paused, running his fingers through her thick wavy hair and admiring the tight top and skirt. “...just, wow.”</p>
<p>“It was all Haley.” It had been a long time since Grace had dressed up. Friendship with Emily had its perks, and Haley was one of them. While Grace admired Emily’s style and self-made clothing, she’d definitely wanted Haley’s help to look hot. </p>
<p>She’d thrown out all of her party clothes before moving, something she now regretted seeing Sebastian’s reaction. Grace took a step back and gave him a slow turn, holding eye contact the whole time. He swallowed hard. She wrinkled her nose with pleasure.</p>
<p>“Get me a drink,” she ordered, winding her arm into his. It brought her back to her first real night on the town, meeting a tall, dark stranger on the mountain lakeshore. She squeezed her arm tighter in his, proud that he was hers. And he smiled down at her, his silver eyes soft, and she knew he loved that she was his, too.</p>
<p>They elbowed their way to the bar, where Grace was horrified to see an assortment of liquors, juices, sodas and snacks littering the table. A bowl of jungle juice glittered ominously. “Don’t,” warned Sebastian. “Abigail’s concoction.” Grace shuddered and accepted the rum and soda he pressed into her hand.</p>
<p>The townies were mingling more warmly now, some wobbling and dancing to the clanging music. Sam was on his laptop in the corner near Sebastian’s desk, tongue poking through his lips and clicking away. Grace saw Haley push her way back to the corner. She saw her point a finger in Sam’s surprised face before snatching the laptop away. Almost immediately the music changed to jangling pop with a banging beat and the crowd cheered. The mood lifted as the bass dropped. The dark held them tightly as they pressed each other to the center of the room to dance. Grace pulled Sebastian with the crowd.</p>
<p>----------------------------</p>
<p>That night, frost settled into Pelican Town. It made its home in the crevices of Jodi’s roof, the windowsills of Elliott’s beach cabin, the worn dirt path from Pam’s trailer and the spaces between the crops on Grace’s land. The cold seeped into the earth, sucking the heat and the last dregs of summer from the soil. By morning, its icy tendrils curled around the edges of the local plantlife, but the first beams of the morning sun washed away any trace of the cold and bathed the valley in its soft warmth.</p>
<p>----------------------------</p>
<p>Shrouded in darkness and illuminated only by candlelight, Abigail swirled her hands over her cards with a dramatic flourish. The motion sent a wobbling wind through the flames of the candles surrounding the girls. Grace watched anxiously from her seat across from Abigail.</p>
<p>The girls sat in the center of Abigail’s floor encircled by runes, crystals, herbs and candles. Despite the boys’ pleas to join them at Gus’s bar tonight, they’d skived off to play old console video games and eat ice cream out of the pint containers until they felt sick. Then Grace, mouth full of chocolate chip cookie dough, asked a question about a strange looking hardcover on Abigail’s bookshelf, and Abigail had dragged Grace down the mythical rabbithole. Obviously, things had escalated.</p>
<p>Grace tightened and tied the drawstrings on her sweatshirt. Well, Sebastian’s sweatshirt. Her favorite of his, so it felt more like it was hers at this point. She chewed at the frayed end of the shorter string, watching Abigail scroll her phone.</p>
<p>“What about Alex?” she asked, holding up her phone to show Alex’s social media profile. Grace rolled her eyes. Alex had hit on Grace every chance he got, usually tripping over his own feet or dropped football when running to say hello. He had the world’s most handsome face and not a single coherent thought behind it. Nicest himbo this side of Stardew Valley.</p>
<p>“Sure,” she answered. “Let’s see what he’s up to.” </p>
<p>Abigail found Alex’s birthday in his profile and did a few calculations on a scrap of paper next to her. “Four!” she proudly told Grace, who counted three cards out from the top of the tarot deck. She flipped the fourth in a dramatic gesture: The Star.</p>
<p>“What does it mean?” asked Grace, resuming chewing on the drawstring. Abigail was consulting her book.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” she said, checking her notes. “It’s a pretty positive card. Looks like he had some bad shit happen in his past, trials and hardship, but he’s learning from those experiences. Going into a time of renewed hope. Embarking on a journey and able to leave negative things behind.” Abigail gave a wide smile. “Nice!”</p>
<p>Grace grinned back. “He deserves that, for sure. I could see it.” Good for Alex. She’d been hoping he’d get a good reading. Abigail flipped her purple hair back over her shoulder and reshuffled the cards in a complex flurry. Grace took a sip from her herbal tea and waited patiently.</p>
<p>Finally, Abigail finished and set the cards back in the center of their circle. “So? Who’s next?” Grace lolled the drawstring around in her mouth, thinking hard. They’d already gone through half the townspeople. They’d agreed not to read each other though, or Sam and Seb, so that helped narrow the list.</p>
<p>“Let me check social.” She pulled her own phone out, and Abigail nodded and resumed checking hers. They each scrolled for a few minutes until Abigail gasped.</p>
<p>“Oh okay, here we go.” She held up her phone and Grace gaped. It was Shane’s profile. Hurriedly, she typed in his handle and his profile came up on her phone, too. He was one of the last few locals she hadn’t added on social media. His profile was hidden from non-followers, so she couldn’t see any of his info. She frowned and Abigail laughed. She turned her phone to show Grace Shane’s profile. “Look, he’s a Taurus!” </p>
<p>Grace raised her eyebrows. “What does that mean?” She kept one eye on her own phone, Shane’s profile still up. Her finger hovered over the “request to follow” button with uncertainty. It glowed red at her, daring her. She thought of Taurus, the bull, and how it would respond to a waving red sign. With a smile, she charged forward and tapped the request button. All of this internal dialogue went unnoticed by her friend, of course.</p>
<p>Abigail was grinning to herself and jotting Shane’s birthday and her strange calculations frantically on her paper. “It means...he’s a stubborn asshole...but that...doesn’t matter for this reading...” she said, distracted. Finally, she looked up triumphantly. “Six! Draw six.”</p>
<p>Grace put her phone down on the carpet before drawing five cards and setting them aside. She pulled the sixth and handed it to Abigail, who made a show of placing the card down in a ceremonious swoop. The girls craned their necks to read it together. In the flickering candlelight, they could see: The Tower.</p>
<p>“Yikes!” laughed Abigail heartily. “Don’t need to consult the book for that one.” Grace looked at her with surprise. Abigail was still laughing, wiping a tear from her eye. “Truly a terrible card. Just abysmal. Change, chaos, upheaval, all that.” </p>
<p>Grace shifted and recrossed her legs, a little uncomfortable. “So...pretty bad?”</p>
<p>Abigail was still giggling. “Yeah, yeah it’s not great. Poor Shane, but is it any surprise?”</p>
<p>“Abigail! That’s sort of awful!” Grace’s worry line appeared between her eyebrows.</p>
<p>Abigail got a grip on herself and gave Grace a goofy smile. “Ah, it’s what you make of it, I guess. Could be transformative. Or an awakening, a revelation for a change. But again, usually preceded by something bad.” </p>
<p>Grace sighed. “Yikes is right.” She picked up the card and inspected it closer. “Poor Shane.”</p>
<p>Abigail snatched the card back and shuffled again. “All in good fun, my friend. Doesn’t have to be that serious.” Grae gave her a weak smile, and Abigail accepted it as the opening to continue. She put the deck back in the middle of the circle and consulted her phone. “Okay, how about...Maru?”</p>
<p>Grace laughed. “Now that, I’m dying to see.” And she leaned in, awaiting Abigail’s instructions.</p>
<p>Unnoticed on the floor next to Grace, her phone buzzed. On the illuminated screen was a notification from social media: her follow request was accepted, and she had one new follower.</p>
<p>----------------------------</p>
<p>The pumpkin outside Pierre’s store was showing signs of rot. Abigail had carved it weeks ago on Spirit’s Eve. The glowing eyes were sagging and soft, and its once-sharp grin was grimacing as its skin tightened. In the morning, Caroline would step outside and gasp in disgust before throwing it into the bin. But tonight, a spider crawled over its surface, legs casting spindly shadows in the streetlights, weaving its web in the dark and seeking a refuge from the cold.</p>
<p>----------------------------</p>
<p>Grace sucked down her hot coffee with relish. Gus had started piloting Saturday and Sunday morning takeout, and she’d leapt on the chance to treat herself. Gus had laughed so hard at the massive thermos she’d brought for coffee that he’d only charged her for a small. His breakfast sandwich was to die for, and she’d stopped to sit and suck it down before even making it back to the house. Even with the cold from the bench seeping through her overalls, she was cozy and content. She snuggled into her fleece and flexed her fingers around the thermos.</p>
<p>The sun was taking its sweet time warming the horizon. The river was starting to twinkle and stir. The fog rolling off the ocean and shrouding the grass was slowly burning off. And with that, the rest of town was starting to wake up. </p>
<p>She heard the telltale creaking of doors and windows, muffled bickering from Emily’s and Haley’s house, and the start of the day’s heavy foot traffic through the town square behind her.</p>
<p>Grace turned in her seat on the bench and hooked her elbow over the back to peer into the town square. The bushes kept her shrouded and out sight. She took a long drink of her coffee.</p>
<p>Sam was holding Vincent’s hands while he stood on Sam’s skateboard, gently rolling him along. The little boy was in awe, his helmet a little loose on his head. Sam the sunshine was being tender and encouraging, as always. Grace took another sip.</p>
<p>Harvey stepped out of the clinic in his workout clothes, stretching his arms before turning the sign on his front door to “open.” He stood and savored the cool morning air for a few minutes, waving at a few locals, before stepping back inside. Maru showed up a few minutes later for her shift with two cups of coffee and a brown bag from Gus’s. Grace took another sip.</p>
<p>Evelyn was inspecting the fall floral arrangements and pots and clucking her tongue. Caroline appeared with two wicker baskets. The two women set to work trimming and collecting the drying and decaying flowers. Grace took another sip.</p>
<p>She felt a pang of worry for the crops on her own farm, before she remembered Shane’s assurances that they were hardy enough to last at least a few more weeks. </p>
<p>Speaking of...look who just strolled into the town square.</p>
<p>Shane was dragging his feet behind a particularly boisterous Jas. She was skipping, barely touching the ground, and cheering him forward. “--and then, we have to go to the fountain, because Vincent said--”</p>
<p>Upon hearing his name, Vincent looked up in surprise. “Jas!” he cried, leaping off the skateboard. Sam gripped Vincent in shock, barely keeping him upright, the skateboard rolling away forgotten. Vincent broke out of Sam’s grasp and ran over to his friend.</p>
<p>“Vincent! We’re going to the fountain today,” said Jas proudly. </p>
<p>Vincent grinned. “Did you bring a penny?”</p>
<p>A wrinkle appeared on Jas’s forehead. Funny enough, it looked a lot like the one on Shane’s. “A penny?” he asked Jas gruffly.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s a magic fountain,” she answered carefully. “So you need a penny to make your wish come true.”</p>
<p>Sam, back from recovering his skateboard, was watching this unfold with amusement. Shane caught his eye. “Did you do this?”</p>
<p>“Do what?” Sam zipped his jacket up tighter and jammed his hand into his pocket.</p>
<p>“This...wishing well.”</p>
<p>“Fountain,” Sam corrected. “And no, it’s just part of town lore.” The kids were distracted, scouring the ground for dropped coins.</p>
<p>Grace hadn’t known Sam and Shane were friendly. How well did they know each other? How much did Sam know about Shane’s role in Jas’s life? Probably depended on how much trouble Jas and Vincent were getting into. Grace felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket but ignored it.</p>
<p>Shane rubbed his face with both hands. “Sam,” he said slowly. “I...I don’t want her thinking wishes just...come true.”</p>
<p>“Well, that train’s left the station, dude,” answered Sam. “She’s a kid. Just give her a penny. Let her wish for a pony.”</p>
<p>Shane gave Sam a dark look. After a very long pause, he said in a low voice, “Who the fuck carries coins anymore?”</p>
<p>Sam laughed, his sunshine personality unfazed by Shane’s dark cloud. He tugged his hand out of his pocket and handed Shane a few coins. “Have fun,” he called before dragging Vincent away to inspect a fresh cut on the boy’s knee.</p>
<p>Jas ran back to Shane with her hands full of the litter she and Vincent had been collecting off the square. “What about this?” Shane balked and moved to grab it.</p>
<p>Then he seemed to be struck by a thought. “Hold it right there, girlie,” he said, tugging out his phone. “Smile.” He held his phone up and got a picture of her with her hands extended. Then he smacked the trash down out of her hand and used his sweatshirt sleeve to roughly scrub her hands.</p>
<p>“Uncle Shane!” she protested, squirming out of his grip. “I needed that.”</p>
<p>“No, yuck. You didn’t. Now...hold...still…” he grunted, still scrubbing, then inspecting her hands and deciding they were clean enough. “Close your eyes.” She obliged, and he tucked the coins from Sam into her palm. When she opened her eyes again she gasped in delight.</p>
<p>“Wow!” she cried, eyes wide, then beelined for the path to the fountain. “Let’s go! Hurry up!” </p>
<p>Shane was fixed in place, typing something on his phone before shoving it into his pocket and following her away.</p>
<p>Grace felt her phone buzz again and tugged it out this time. It was from Shane. <i>Too early for this shit.</i> He’d sent the picture of Jas holding the litter: bottle lids, shards of glass, scraps of paper. Her grin was infectious and Grace couldn’t help smiling. </p>
<p>She checked her earlier text. It was from Sebastian. <i>Did you get breakfast?</i></p>
<p>Shit! He woke up earlier than she’d expected. She leapt up to buy another egg sandwich and refill her thermos at Gus’s. </p>
<p>By now, the fog had dissipated and the day was bathed in a warm yellow light. A brisk wind brought the first light snowflakes of winter, sparkling in the sunbeams.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. It’s a Big World Outside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang goes to Zuzu City for a weekend away</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Infinite love and appreciation for all my readers and commenters! I know this has been a slow and confusing burn but the different pieces are finally falling into place :) Good things are coming I promise</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Can’t get stuck in this town all the time,” Sebastian whispered into her ear, ticking her and making her squirm. “It’s a big world outside.”</p><p>She wiggled out of his tight grip just enough to tilt her head back expectantly. Seb dutifully planted a kiss on her.</p><p>“Gross!” gagged Sam, leaning out of the passenger window and pretending to vomit. Grace turned to look, and Sebastian adjusted his arms to keep her wrapped against him. She felt his heart pounding against her back.</p><p>“Jealous?” called Sebastian, squeezing Grace for emphasis. Grace caught Sam’s eye and pretended to gag, too, without Seb seeing. Sam’s face split into a grin.</p><p>“Maybe we should separate you two,” said Sam. “Can’t have a distracted driver, can we?” </p><p>“Yeah, Seb -- you can drive!” called Abigail from the driver’s side, her purple hair glinting as she stepped into the sun. “I’ll sit in back with Grace.” She threw the keys over to Seb, and he caught them instinctively. “You know, for safety’s sake.” She winked at Grace before yanking the back door open and settling into the seat behind the driver.</p><p>Grace’s palms were sweaty and she tucked them anxiously into her jeans pockets. Seb didn’t notice. He kissed the top of her head before peeling himself away and striding over to the car. He gave Sam a firm flick in the forehead as he passed by. Sam rubbed his head, making a sour face. Grace sighed, then let herself into the backseat of the car behind Sam.</p><p>She didn’t have a great way to tell her friends she’d rather have a tooth pulled without novocaine than go on a road trip to Zuzu City. But she’d promised herself she’d try, just this once, for Seb.</p><p>He’d asked her at length about her favorite haunts, bars, restaurants, dance floors. He’d looked up where she used to live and work. He’d asked her about any old friends, whether she’d want to invite them along for a drink or brunch while they were in town. He’d asked about how long the drive was and whether she was excited for the trip. Grace had balked and dodged most of his questions, if only just barely.</p><p>She buckled her seatbelt then pressed herself back into the seat and let out a shaky breath. Sebastian, oblivious, was berating Sam for forgetting which email he’d confirmed their rental under. Abigail was desperately stretching for the audio cord, which Sam teasingly held just out of her reach while he thumbed through the open tabs on his phone. Somehow, amidst the chaos, the car had started moving. Grace felt bile rising in her throat. She shut her eyes.</p><p>After what felt like hours, she realized the car was silent. She opened her eyes to see Abigail’s staring right back. “Helloooo, Grace,” she said, drawing it out, “Has your spaceship landed yet?”</p><p>Grace looked around nervously. They were speeding along the highway, the trees a blur. Seb and Sam were quiet -- for once -- and Grace realized they were waiting for her to say something.</p><p>“Sorry, guys, what?” Her voice was shaky.</p><p>“Were you asleep, or sick, or something?” asked Abigail. “You were breathing weird. Practically wheezing.”</p><p>Seb tried to catch Grace’s eyes in the rearview mirror, but she looked down at her knees and pulled a loose thread on her jeans.</p><p>“I was...uh...nauseous,” she said slowly. </p><p>“Yeah, you’re really fucking pale,” said Abigail, inspecting Grace closely. Grace turned away and tried to look out the window, but a car passed them in the next lane and her chest tightened. Her breath caught and she heard herself wheezing.</p><p>“Babe, why didn’t you tell me you get carsick?” asked Sebastian, trying to reach a hand back to pat her knee but missing. She gave a small shrug, unable to find the words. Her mouth was dry and her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe.</p><p>She felt a cold bottle press into her hands and looked up. Sam was fully turned around in his seat, seatbelt twined around him, and facing her over the top of the seat. He pushed the bottle into her hand again until she felt her fingers close around it. She looked down at the ginger ale.</p><p>“Deep breaths,” he advised. “Breathe in, count to five, breathe out. Very slowly. And drink that in small sips.” Grace lifted it to her face and let a few drops fall into her mouth. The sweet taste and fizz on her tongue sharpened her senses. Sam watched her carefully, then turned to Abigail. “Keep her distracted.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“For her...nausea.” Sam gave Grace one more pointed look before turning back in his seat and readjusting his seatbelt. He picked up the aux cord, turned on chill music, then pulled Seb into a passionate conversation about the latest Solarion Chronicles web forum discourse. Seb kept sneaking glances back at Grace in the mirror, but Sam held him captive.</p><p>Abigail rolled her eyes at Grace, then started talking about her next steps to become a certified tarot reader. Grace’s heart was pounding in her ears. She barely heard a thing. But between the deep breaths, small sips and passionate tirade from the witch next to her, she barely felt time slipping by.</p><p>Eventually, the car scooted up a steep driveway and fell silent. Grace looked up, surprised, and saw the sun glinting off the Zuzu Bay down the street from their rental. She ripped the car door open and sucked in a few deep breaths of the stiff ocean air, feeling shaky but calm. Behind her, she heard her friends step out, arguing about gas money. </p><p>Sam appeared and gave her a strong whack on the shoulder. “All good?” he asked. She gave him a weak smile back. “No offense, Grace,” he continued, turning towards the house. “But when we drive back, maybe we should just knock you out first.” She gave an ugly snort. Not a half bad idea.</p><p>Sebastian wrapped an arm around her and steered her into the house behind his two friends, their travel bag thrown effortlessly over his shoulder.</p><p>Their rental was the third floor of this house, and after a bit of huffing from the hike up the stairs, they opened the door to discover an old, wood-paneled apartment. Two bedrooms, four twin beds total, with one bathroom, kitchen and living room. It was pretty dope. Except the ceiling was low, so Sebastian had to bend over to walk through the doorways.</p><p>Then Sam pulled out a bottle of tequila, a bag of limes, a pack each of beer and hard seltzer, and a fresh supply of disposable cups. And just like that, the night was on.</p><p>First shot. They took selfies on Sebastian’s polaroid camera and found a record player in a living room cabinet in their rental. After a brief squabble over the music choices, Abigail won and started DJing.</p><p>Second shot. Armed with cans of beer and hard seltzer, the gang circled the kitchen table with red solo cups and a deck of cards and proceeded to play Kings. Sebastian made a rule that anyone shorter than him had to drink every round, which given the circumstances, risked universal alcohol poisoning. So, in defense of everyone's health, Sam contested the rule by dumping a cup of water on Seb’s head. Then the two started wrestling. The game was abandoned.</p><p>Third shot. The girls laughed and swayed to folk rock while the boys lay haphazard across the couch and chair, cheeks patchy and pink. The pizza arrived, and Seb was voted to have to hike down and back up the stairs to get it from the front door.</p><p>Fourth shot. Sebastian whacked his head on the kitchen doorframe when he forgot to duck while walking, so he lay with his head in Grace’s lap while she smoothed his hair and adjusted the bag of ice on his head. Abigail was reading Sam’s palm and predicting a haughty blonde romantic candidate in his future. But when Sam looked away blushing, Abigail shot Grace a wicked grin, and she knew Abigail was fudging this one. Sam’s future was written more on his face than on his palm.</p><p>Fifth shot. The girls had wrangled Sam’s phone from him and were crafting the perfect text to Haley when Sebastian finally persuaded the crew down the stairs, out the door, and into their crisp night onto the town.</p><p>Grace didn’t miss Zuzu City, but she did miss some of its beautiful moments. Like how, on the main strip downtown, they could grab a drink at a bar and sit on the patio, then simply reach over the patio railing to buy fries from the street vendor out front. Or how, in the smallest and most cramped alleys, shrouded in shadow and deceptively benign brick exteriors, they’d find the rowdiest dance floors. Or how, sitting outside and catching their breath with a slow beer each, they befriended the group at the next table and taught them flip cup. Grace had never told Sebastian her unique skill at this one, and had the distinct pleasure of watching his face fall in horror when she threw back her drink in one gulp and flipped her cup on her first try, securing her team’s win and his team’s loss.</p><p>Maybe it was the alcohol softening her, but she was also thrilled to see Seb thrive. His pale face was turned upward and bathed in a warm glow from the streetlights and leftover holiday lights swirled around the trees lining the sidewalks. He was like a child, surprised and awed by every small joy in the city. And even though Grace was feeling cramped in the busy concrete jungle, and was already sick of retreading streets she’d burned into her memory a hundred times over -- she was happy to watch Sebastian savor the experience. Under a streetlight, a few feet back from their friends, she pulled him into her and gave him a soft kiss, just to tell her how happy she was for him. His goofy, liquor-soaked smile back told her that he got the message.</p><p>Eventually, they made their way closer to the part of town where Grace used to live. A memory hit her like a lightning bolt: her local haunt should be around here somewhere.</p><p>Suddenly she was leading the pack, guiding them around street corners and through greasy alleys. After about 10 minutes, Sam and Abigail were less than amused, and Seb tried bargaining. “Maybe it’s not here anymore, babe? It’s cold, let’s just try this place.” And he gestured to a boring old brewpub across the street.</p><p>“No, no chance,” said Grace, still on her mission. “I used to come here all the time...it was my Stardrop Saloon before I had the Stardrop Saloon...you get it. I know we’re close.” Then she turned a corner and there it stood: Pete’s Place.</p><p>Grace pressed her hands to the dirty glass and peered inside. The room was packed wall-to-wall with bodies, barely lit under the few incandescent ceiling lights. She could feel the bass from the music resounding through the glass. It was just like she remembered! She grabbed Sebastian’s sleeve and pulled him towards the door. “Come on, guys!” she cried. They staggered in behind her to the chagrin of the bouncer.</p><p>“Grace,” Seb yelled into her ear over the bar din. “It’s sort of a dump, babe.” He pointedly kicked a beer can away from them across the sticky floor.</p><p>“The liquor’s dirt cheap, though,” she yelled back before kissing his cheek sloppily and smearing her lipstick. She pointed the gang to an open table in the back corner. “Drinks are on me!”</p><p>Abigail slipped through the crowd faster than she would’ve thought possible to secure the table -- Seb close behind. Sam pinched her arm when he passed by. “Cheap-ass!” She waved him along before slamming her way through the throng of college students to reach the bar. </p><p>She was thankful for the newfound strength and for the roundness in her hips and stomach from her days on the farm. No longer a starved Joja assistant, she could hip check frat boys out of her way with ease, and secured a spot in the corner next to the wall.</p><p>Enjoying a pleasant head buzz and in no rush for the bartender to find her, she took a leisurely glance along the bar walls. Every inch of the place was covered in stickers, posters, peeling photographs and newspaper clippings. She skimmed the headlines and faces of patrons past while tapping her fingernails on the bar.</p><p>Eventually, a baby-faced young man appeared in front of her with a dark pink lipstick stain on his collar. She tried to suppress the urge to comment. But not well enough. “Busy tonight?”</p><p>“I -- uh -- no more than usual,” he squeaked. “Get you anything?”</p><p>“Four greyhounds with gin, please!” She slipped him a few bills.</p><p>As he walked away, she noticed a photograph behind the bar with a thick wooden frame. It was the only thing in here not held to the wall with tape. Ignoring the beer (and who knows what else) soaking into her jacket sleeves, she leaned forward onto the bar to get a closer look.</p><p>A short, sturdy man with round glasses stood next to a young woman with dark hair and vibrant eyes. They each held one end of a sign reading “Now Open” in front of a building Grace dimly recognized as Pete’s. Their smiles were bright as sunshine. The man looked familiar somehow. </p><p>When the bartender came back, juggling her drinks, she pointed to the sign. “Who’s that?”</p><p>He looked surprised. “The owners?” His voice was high as he counted out her change. “Pete and Jennifer. That is THE Pete.” He held out his hand and she caught the handful of coins.</p><p>“Is he still around? I think he used to serve me and my friends back in the day.”</p><p>“No, they, uh…” He looked over his shoulder at the growing crowd around the bar, trying to edge away from Grace. “You didn’t hear?” </p><p>She shook her head, pocketing the change and pushing back from the bar.</p><p>“They died a couple years ago. Real tragic.”</p><p>“Oh, gosh,” she said, shocked. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”</p><p>He shrugged. “Wasn’t around at the time.” With that, he stepped away to answer the next call.</p><p>Grace eyed the photograph. Belatedly, she realized the wall hangings immediately around it weren’t newspapers or photos but letters, all handwritten. The back wall of the bar was a memorial. </p><p>She peeled her eyes away and started to inch to her friends’ table, cautiously cradling the four drinks. When she looked up, she nearly dropped them.</p><p>Shane’s face was smiling at her from the dark bar wall. </p><p>She hurriedly set the glasses on a nearby table before pressing herself to the wall to see the picture. No mistaking him -- that was Shane.</p><p>He was at least a few years younger, that’s for sure. His hair was shorter, less wild. His face was thinner. His middle, too. He was wearing a shirt that had a collar and buttons up the front. Buttons! Grace slapped a hand to her mouth, dangerously close to giggling. After seeing him exclusively in t-shirts and sweatshirts, the professional look was a shock. She stared at his grin, into his eyes. There was no dark cloud looming over this Shane.</p><p>She hungrily scanned the rest of the photograph for more details. His arms were thrown around two people beside him. She recognized them as Pete and Jennifer from the bar photo, and belatedly realized the setting behind the trio was this very bar.</p><p>Below the photograph hung a letter. The return address on the envelope listed Pelican Town. It was postmarked almost two years ago. She could tell it had never been opened, just hung intact under the picture.</p><p>Grace took a step back from the wall, heart pounding. Gradually, she realized she recognized a face on all of these photos. Shane smiled at her from all over the wall.</p><p>Shane drinking beer. Shane with friends. Shane tending bar. Shane doing karaoke. Shane holding a baby. Shane giving a thumbs-up while holding a bag of trash next to the dumpster.</p><p>Mostly, Shane with Pete and Jennifer.</p><p>Grace’s skin started to itch. </p><p>She heard a voice behind her. “Miss?” She turned and saw a few folks about her age staring at her from their pool table. A redheaded man with a tremendous beard gave a nod to the wall. “You know ‘im?”</p><p>She froze, weighing her options, then shook her head. “Tha’s a shame,” the ginger grumbled.</p><p>“Who is he?” she asked cautiously.</p><p>The ginger walked up next to her and pointed to the wall. It was a picture of a huge crowd. Shane was squatting in the front row of the group. The redhead was in the second row back. Glancing back and forth, Grace realized each of the people at the pool table were somewhere in this photo.</p><p>“Buddy o’ ours,” he said. “Haven’t seen ‘im ‘round for a while.” Grace stared at the photo. There must have been thirty -- no, forty -- people posing in the bar. At the epicenter were Shane, Pete and Jennifer.</p><p>“So you knew the owners, too?” Grace asked. After a beat, she said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”</p><p>“Thanks, miss,” said the ginger gruffly. “Been a tough couple o’ years. Imagine so for ‘im, too.”</p><p>“I imagine so,” Grace agreed quietly. The ginger bid her good night and went back to his friends.</p><p>Grace’s mind was too thick with alcohol to properly process this. All she knew for sure was that it had been too long since she’d left her friends to find a table. She didn’t want them to come looking for her to find this. It felt personal.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a picture loosely pinned to the wall of Shane alone. He was sitting in a patio chair, hand held up to shield his eyes from the sun, his other hand resting in his lap. His dark eyebrows were raised in surprise and his face held the ghost of a smile. His smile was unconditional and unburdened by the trauma of his last few years. Her chest warmed to look at him. She pictured him, as he is now, in the chair on her own porch, an iced tea in hand.</p><p>After a moment’s hesitation, she snatched the picture off the wall and pocketed it, then picked up the greyhounds and made her way to the back table.</p><p>The rest of the night, even as the cocktail and pint glasses stacked up around her, and her vision slid out of focus, she felt the photo burning a hole in her pocket. Sometimes she’d slip a hand in just to touch it, to remember it was real. She didn’t show it to a single soul.</p><p>At the end of their night out, dawn peeking over the horizon, she stumbled into the apartment with the rest of the crew. While Sebastian pushed their twin beds together in their shared room, she locked herself in the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub to run her fingers over the worn edge of the photograph and wonder at the man frozen in it. Before sleep took them, when Seb curled himself against her and moved his hands on her hips in small, questioning circles, she slid away and feigned sleep to hold the discovery at Pete’s in her mind uninterrupted. And when she woke up and Seb was on his side facing away from her, she couldn’t blame him, really.</p><p>So she thought nothing of it when he ducked out of hangover brunch the next morning, leaving the rest of the gang in a dark corner of a divey cafe to chew their toast and sip their coffee in a silence punctuated by throbbing headaches and bill negotiations. It never appeared to her that Sebastian was dressed a little better than usual that morning, opting for slacks and a button-up shirt over the sweatpants-sweatshirt combination Grace was sporting. And it never struck her as strange that after he rejoined them, he kept one eye on his phone and kept refreshing his email inbox.</p><p>It would occur to her later that maybe if she’d been more honest with him about her own circumstances, he would have trusted her enough to tell her about the interview. And maybe then, they could have been built to last. But Grace’s doors were closed and locked up tight. And Sebastian was attentive enough to know their relationship had been forced to stay shallow. So Grace didn’t find out about the interview until weeks later, when he told her he’d been offered the job.</p><p>Maybe if she’d been more honest. But she wasn’t. So it was too late, really, and realistically it had been too late since the beginning. Their end was here.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. More Than This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorry this is a day late!! All my promises about weekly posting and I dropped the ball on this one...</p><p>This chapter is a little rough but it's bridging an important gap. So much love for all of you, thank you for sticking with this story!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days were colder now. Fall in Stardew Valley clung on only long enough for the gang to get back from their trip in one piece, but by the next morning the roads were glazed in a thin sheet of ice. Grace had to be careful letting Rusty out in the mornings, and after he slipped off the last step and nearly broke a leg, she started putting sand down on her porch at night. Sebastian’s birthday was coming up. She’d wanted to buy him something nice, but money was getting a little tight with her crops falling victim to early winter frosts. She thought about cooking for him -- his mom had privately shared her pumpkin soup recipe with Grace -- but he hated Grace’s cooking, so that might be more of a punishment than a gift.</p><p>The trip to Zuzu City had both exhausted and energized Grace and Sebastian. They were right back in their groove, happy and ignoring the few shadows out of sight in favor of basking in the bliss of the present. </p><p>But when they’d returned home, before Sebastian could even unload the car fully, she’d stashed the picture of Shane backwards and behind the ibuprofen on the top shelf of her medicine cabinet. Sometimes, when she brushed her teeth at night or after she’d wrestled her hair into a bun in the morning, she’d pull it out to study it for a few minutes. Not that she needed to, really -- she’d already memorized every inch.</p><p>Grace still had a prickling anxiety about their future, and sometimes it stole her appetite and made her stomach curl. On those nights, she’d look out the window more. Or find herself rinsing dishes for too long. Or locking herself in the bathroom and prying a photograph out of the cabinet, just to remind herself that she had grief in common with someone else.</p><p>Their end came on a day like any other, like she always knew it would.</p><p>“Pizza delivery!” called Sebastian, letting himself into the house. Grace was preparing Rusty’s dinner, and he set a box of pizza and a brown bag of fries on the table. The steam curled off the cardboard and Grace felt her mouth water in anticipation. Seb shrugged off his jacket and shoes while she set her dog’s dinner on the floor, then grabbed her for a quick peck hello. </p><p>“Did you get vegetables on half?” she asked, pinching his arm before grabbing the pizza box off the table to check. Nope.</p><p>“Oh Yoba, Grace, sorry -- I totally forgot,” he said, rubbing the back of this neck. “I’ve been a little distracted because I...uh, I got some news today.” He was all electricity and tense energy. Her chest tightened.</p><p>He waited for her to ask, but when she didn’t, he took a deep breath and continued. “Grace, I got a job offer. It’s in IT at a start-up. It’s a really, really good fit. And it’s in Zuzu City.” His slim face, all sharp angles and steep planes, was soft and open. He had been so excited to tell her.</p><p>She pinched the corners of her mouth into a thin smile. “Seb, I just...wow.” She pulled him into a hug, and said into his chest, muffled by his shirt, “I’m so happy for you, baby.” </p><p>He squeezed her gently before peeling her off of him again. “I’m so grateful for you,” he replied.</p><p>For a moment, they were frozen again in the middle of the conversation they’d avoided for all these months. It felt just like they were back on the lookout, all those weeks ago, holding each other next to Sebastian’s motorcycle. Grace could still smell the cold air, decaying leaves and his musky cologne.</p><p>Grace looked away. She’d known since they’d met that he’d leave. Didn’t make it any easier.</p><p>Sebastian spoke first: “Come with me.”</p><p>“What?” Grace was startled. She gave a small laugh in shock and he frowned. </p><p>“Grace, be serious. Come with me.” She looked into his eyes and saw he meant it.</p><p>Seb leaned in. “I know...I know we haven’t really talked about what would happen next. But when I got the news, I was so excited, but the first thing I thought of was you. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to talk to you.” He took a shaky breath. His skin was flushed patchy and pink on his cheeks and neck. “I love you. I don’t want to choose between my future and my heart. Grace, you had a life in Zuzu City once. You could again. I don’t know why it ended last time, but you’d have me this time.” He was all pauses and no eye contact. Forever struggling to speak true to his feelings. But he was trying. For her.</p><p>She honestly never thought he’d offer. So she was honest: “I don’t know what to say.” In all the endings she’d imagined -- and she’d imagined it quite often -- she didn’t see this possibility.</p><p>He squeezed her gently. “Don’t think. Just come live with me in the city. We could give it a real shot.” His arms around her were suffocating. She pulled away and held her arms over her chest.</p><p>“Seb,” she answered gently. Why wouldn’t her mouth form the right words? “I love you too, you know I do. I don’t want to lose you. But…” and she trailed off, not sure how to phrase what she meant. After a moment, she landed on the same decision she’d made every morning she’d stayed in this relationship: “I’m okay with letting you go.”</p><p>His hurt was obvious. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it,” he begged. “Come on, Grace, do you really want to stay?” She glanced behind him at the ratty furniture, the old windows already frosting from the night’s cold snap, the piles of boxes and dust in every corner. </p><p>He continued, edging close to an old nerve. “I know how much this place means to you, I really do. But you have to work so hard, babe. Every single day. And it’s only going to get harder. Do you really want this? Really?”</p><p>He’d been dismissive of her farming before, and it had felt radioactive then. She was surprised to find it didn’t bother her this time. Maybe she’d gotten used to him not understanding her. Or maybe she was stronger in her resolve now. Either way, she’d accepted the space between them a long time ago, and it made it easier to maintain.</p><p>But because she loved him -- and damn her, she really did -- she thought about it, and with perfect clarity she saw her two paths.</p><p>She’d pack up, call it quits for her great Pelican Town experiment, and follow Sebastian to the city. They’d have a one-bedroom apartment, and it’d be a pretty small walkup, but it would be theirs so they’d love it all the same. He’d work a regular nine-to-five. She could get another job, maybe something closer to agriculture, like at a local grocery or flower shop. Money would be tight, so sometimes they’d fight, but then they’d fuck and make up. They’d have a favorite coffee shop around the corner and a favorite bar down the street. They’d go back to visit Robin, Demetrius and Maru on holidays or long weekends. And they’d fall asleep in each other's arms to the sounds of the city and in the eternal glow from the streetlights and high-rises.</p><p>Or she could stay. She’d struggle to make ends meet all winter, and might beg a few meals off Gus or try to start a tab she might not pay off again until next winter. Maybe she could get Robin to build a coop on a payment plan, so she could at least start raising chickens. The house was already fucking cold, and the wind blew straight through it, so she’d have to burn some time now to insulate the windows and prep the place for deep winter. What happens in spring? Once it’s warm enough, it’s back to the slog, waking up at the crack of dawn to do back-breaking labor in the dirt, day in and day out. She’d be all alone, since her love had left for the city. And she’d suffer just to scrape a living.</p><p>But her life is her own, and she’s making something of herself out of her own two cracked, dirty, strong hands.</p><p>With a small smile, she looked up at Seb again, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “My future is here.”</p><p>Sebastian’s voice was cracking. “Please. We could really be something, Grace. Give it a shot with me, please.” His eyes weren’t wet, but maybe it would be easier if they were. He was begging. Her heart hurt. Could your heart really, physically hurt?</p><p>She noticed, for the first time, that his eyelashes were long, and they made his face really quite beautiful. It was the kind of thing you notice when you’re filing memories with someone away for safekeeping, because you know you won’t be making more anytime soon.</p><p>She gave him her most earnest, heartbreaking smile, and hoped her freckles on her nose were still prominent enough for her to be cute in his eyes, for her to be lovable in his memory of this moment, before he forgot how to love her.</p><p>“I’m so happy for you, Sebastian, truly. I love that you know your goals and your future, and you’ll make what you want out of your life. I saw that in you the day we met. That spark is in me, too, and I think that’s why I fell for you. I love that we have that in common. And it’s hard, it’s really fucking hard, but I can be happy for you even if I have to lose you. I already chose my path, and you’re now on yours.”</p><p>The wind whistled outside. Winter in Stardew Valley brings the cool wind from the sea in the south, and the tendrils from the breeze were creeping through the thin walls of the farmhouse and drawing goosebumps on Grace’s arms. The air smelled faintly of smoke. </p><p>Sebastian went home for a few days. He didn’t need to leave until next month, and they wanted to make the most of the time they had left together, but first they each needed a moment apart to grieve.</p><p>Pelican Town is such a small town. Sebastian talked to his friends about the job. Then with some regret, he answered the obvious questions about what that meant for his relationship with Grace. And Sam and Shane talked when they picked up the kids from class at the library with Penny. Obviously Sam overshared and spread the gossip. Or at least, that’s what Grace guessed happened. It could be the only reason Shane was banging on her door this afternoon.</p><p>She opened the door with a deep frown and dark lines under eyes. She had been wearing Sebastian’s sweatshirt for the last couple of days. It still smelled like him a little. The hood was up to hide her greasy bun.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” she asked hoarsely. </p><p>Shane kept it simple. “I heard. Thought you might need a friend.”</p><p>Grace’s frown deepened. “I don’t know about that. But whatever. Do what you want.” And she walked away from the door, over to the kitchen to grab a cup of water. Shane stepped in and closed the door behind him before shrugging off his bag, jacket and boots.</p><p>He surveyed the grimy living room and kitchen. Dishes, dirt, dust everywhere. “What are you up to?”</p><p>Grace threw herself onto the couch again. “Self-care.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, taking in the mess. “So this is what girls do after a breakup?”</p><p>“Don’t be an asshole. It’s not a breakup,” she retorted in a cold voice while flipping channels. Then, added quietly, “Not yet, at least.”</p><p>“Sorry,” he responded quickly. “Didn’t mean to.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” she said quietly. “Just stop talking.” She wanted the buzz of the TV to fill her head completely.</p><p>“How are you doing?” He stood behind the couch, unsure what to do or where to sit. </p><p>She was still facing away from him. “I said stop talking. Not great, dude. Obviously.”</p><p>Shane tugged a six-pack of beer out of the bag he’d left at the door. “Think a beer would help take the edge off?” </p><p>“No, Shane,” Grace snapped. “I don’t want a fucking drink.” She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and stared at the TV with resolve, without really watching. “I don’t need to numb myself with alcohol just because I’m feeling a fucking emotion.”</p><p>Shane was silent from behind her. She was too sore to regret what she’d said, but if she had been in her right mind, she would’ve apologized. Unfortunately she was too miserable to give a shit, so when she heard Shane’s footsteps away and her door creak closed behind him, she just turned the volume on the TV back up.</p><p>She was so caught up in her own dark clouds that she didn’t hear the door open again, and nearly jumped out of her skin when a plastic bag dropped down beside her.</p><p>“I checked online, and I think this is more in line with whatever ‘self-care’ you’re doing,” he said drily. Then he sat at the other end of the couch, giving her plenty of space.</p><p>Grace’s interest was piqued. She poked around in the bag. Chocolate bars, potato chips and a pint of cookie dough ice cream. Her stomach growled, and she ripped open a bar to take a bite. The chocolate warmed her from the inside out. Her chest still hurt, but her mouth tasted sweet.</p><p>After a few bites, she remembered Shane was still here. Without looking away from the TV, she asked, “Spoon?”</p><p>He heaved himself up and walked into the kitchen. She heard a drawer open, and added, “Get two.” </p><p>Shane sat back down and handed her one of the spoons. She opened the pint and held it out to him, a peace offering. He took a hearty scoop of ice cream with a smile. They snacked in silence for a few minutes. The first raindrops from the heavy, dark clouds outside started tapping the roof.</p><p>She slid down into the couch, letting herself lean slightly towards Shane’s side. She was so fucking sad. She just wanted someone to make her feel like it was all going to be okay. He’d been right -- she needed a friend today.</p><p>“Sorry I was a dick before,” he said quietly. “But these days, I’d rather make mistakes trying than not try anything at all.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” she said quietly. “Make mistakes for me.” </p><p>By now, Grace could tell they were filling the gaps for each other. When he wasn’t brave, she could be. And now that she was laid low and gutted, he could find it in himself to be bold and share what strength he had. So she let him tentatively lay an arm over her shoulder, and she leaned gently back on his soft stomach and chest.</p><p>The TV buzzed back from commercial and sleet clinked against the windows from outside. For now, she could be okay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Weeks After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sebastian gave her a bouquet and a long, sweet kiss goodbye. Grace spent all her energy trying to make it feel perfect, make it memorable. But she forgot to enjoy the moment, and it was over before she could. So he stepped away with a soft smile that broke her heart all over again. Her breath was foggy in the night air.</p><p>Sebastian turned and started up the path back to his house, taking the same route he’d walked countless times since they started dating last spring. She watched his back retreat up the mountain path as the sun set, until he was either too far away to see or it was just too dark. Then she stepped inside and closed the door.</p><p>He’d asked her to see him off at the train station tomorrow with his family and friends, but she couldn’t bear it. She wanted to say goodbye on her own terms, so they did it tonight instead. But the end was the same -- and just like that, she was alone again.</p><p>It was supposed to get easier, but it didn’t. </p><p>The first few days, Grace didn’t work because she simply didn’t want to. She fed her dog and herself, in that order, and kept the shades drawn. Her isolation was broken only by hurried and desperate visits to Pierre’s General Store, where she’d avoid eye contact and escape stilted small talk by feigning an emergency to get home to. She stopped answering her phone. There was no one on the other end of it she wanted to talk to, not really. </p><p>A few friends tried to drop by -- Abigail, Maru, Emily, Sam. They brought little gifts and snacks, mirroring the gifts she’d given when she’d started getting to know each of them. But she’d ushered them out the door, or closed it in their faces, and claimed she just needed to be alone right now. Being the good friends they were, they respected her wishes.</p><p>Being the terrible friend he is, Shane ignored Grace’s protests and kept coming by anyways.</p><p>“I want to be alone,” she argued, barricading the door with her body, soft in its sweatpants and sweatshirt.</p><p>“No you don’t, don’t be fucking stupid,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone, pushing past her into the tiny kitchen with his arms full of groceries. “Besides, I answer to a higher power than you.” Grace blinked twice and scrunched her eyebrows. Shane heaved the bags on the table and said with a sigh, “Marnie.” Well, that figured.</p><p>“Still, you can’t just barge in,” she protested. It was a weak effort. Shane was already unpacking the bags and jamming food into her cabinets and tiny fridge.</p><p>“I texted you,” he said. “Why didn’t you answer?” She shrugged and sat in a kitchen chair, facing away. He didn’t press the matter.</p><p>It was still a bit of a mystery how Shane came to be her best worst friend in Pelican Town. By all accounts, he was no one’s friend. But they were drawn together by history and by circumstance. (And sometimes by attraction, but Grace wasn’t ready to face that hurdle quite yet. After all, the picture in her bathroom cabinet still faced backwards.) No matter how hard she pushed people away, he was the only person in her life now who would push back.</p><p>Despite all his hours spent helping her on the farm, or keeping her company, or just fooling around -- she always felt their bond was spring-loaded. Sometimes it snapped back to make her pay for the good times. Like the night she found him drunk on the dock. It scared her a little. And it reminded her why close bonds were dangerous, and why she was better off alone. Still, it wasn’t enough to kick him out of her house when she was struggling to pay for her own groceries.</p><p>She loved to hate him, that’s for sure.</p><p>“Can I ask you something?” said Shane from his side of the couch, after a long sip of beer.</p><p>Grace sighed. “No. But you probably will anyways.”</p><p>True to form, Shane pushed on. “Why didn’t you just stay together with Sebastian? Or go with him to Zuzu City? You’re obviously miserable here.”</p><p>Grace sat bolt upright and said firmly, “No, I’m not.”</p><p>Shane raised an eyebrow, eyeing her day-old sweats and greasy hair. “Well, you’re not happy, that’s for damn sure.”</p><p>Grace threw herself back into her seat in a huff. “I’m happy,” she growled in such a ferocious tone it made Shane snort. She smiled a little, the tension broken, and continued. “I’m where I need to be. I am happy here, really. And this right now is shitty and hard. But it’s also what’s best for me.”</p><p>“That’s hard to believe,” Shane said, gesturing at the clothes, food and other assorted debris around the living room.</p><p>Grace shifted in her nest of used tissues and sniffled loudly. “You’re missing the point,” she said. “Even the right choice can still hurt. But that’s okay.”</p><p>“If you knew it would be this bad, why did you do it?” he probed. His knuckles were white on his beer can. She was too self-absorbed in her own sadness to wonder why. “You always knew he’d leave, right? So you shouldn’t have bothered.”</p><p>Grace was quiet for a long moment, watching the Queen of Sauce amble around her kitchen set and narrate her considerations for pan type when cooking shrimp on the stove. Finally, she replied, and let herself be honest. “Because I had the chance for something...good.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t waste my energy on something doomed to fail,” answered Shane, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. </p><p>Grace thought about how handsome Sebastian had been in the moonlight on the mountain lake, the first night she’d met him. And how when he looked at her, he made her feel like she was the only person in the world. She hadn’t trusted him with everything in her heart. But she’d trusted him to care for her for however long they had together. </p><p>Quietly, she said, “Not every happiness is forever, you know. It’s okay to accept love, even if it’s temporary. And most love is.”</p><p>That shut Shane up.</p><p>Over the next couple of weeks, the snow began to pile up. A bracing wind cut through the thin farmhouse walls and chilled the house. It drove Rusty to start sleeping in the bed with Grace, where they kept each other warm. In the mornings, she thought about all the things she needed to do to sustain her farm over winter. But then she’d roll over in bed to see the snow swirling outside, and the sun on the drifts made her eyes and head ache, so she’d roll over to face the wall instead. She was depleted. No matter how self-assured and content she was with her life and choices, she couldn’t get out of bed.</p><p>Fortunately for Grace, the people left in her life were making their own plans. </p><p>She was startled awake by a knock at the door. With a groan, she heaved herself up and brought the blanket with her to answer it. </p><p>Marnie was standing on her porch with a cheery, warm smile. “Good morning, Gracie! What a beautiful Sunday this is.”</p><p>Grace squinted at her in disbelief, then at the weather behind her. The land was covered in a thick blanket of snow and the wind was whipping it into a frenzy. The sun’s weak light just made the day feel colder.</p><p>“Marnie, uh,” Grace started in a hoarse, raw voice, then coughed to clear her throat. Her nose was sore and runny, and she’d had a persistent bug for the last week. Probably didn’t help that her house barely had a lick of insulation. She started again. “Marnie, what are you doing here?”</p><p>Marnie frowned, somehow still looking kindly with her rosy cheeks stained from the cold. “You sound awful, Gracie. Worse than Shane mentioned.”</p><p>“Shane should mind his own damn business,” muttered Grace. Marnie laughed lightly.</p><p>“Well, it’s lucky for you that he doesn’t, hun,” she replied with a hand over her heart.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Marnie shook her head a little, almost to herself. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you I was coming. But it figures.” Then she met Grace’s eyes again. “Robin’s going to do some work on your place, Gracie. Insulate the walls, update the heating system, and build a coop. It’s about damn time, too.”</p><p>Grace felt the blood drain from her face. “Marnie, I...I can’t afford that.” Already, her cupboards were full of food from Shane and the townspeople. It was cracking her pride.</p><p>Marnie waved a gloved hand in their air absently. “Not a worry, dear, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But for now, it’s freezing, so let’s get a move on.” </p><p>Grace, feeling thoroughly cornered, drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders and sniffled loudly. “What?”</p><p>Marnie finally pushed her way inside and shut the door behind her. Grace could see where Shane gets it from. </p><p>She shed her mittens and coat onto the kitchen table and rolled up her sleeves, a glint in her eyes. “Pack your things up, dear, and grab a leash for Rusty. You’re coming to stay with me for a few weeks.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Tell Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello I love you all!!!!! Thank you so much for reading and being on this journey with me!! And for your patience when I promise a Saturday update and inevitably update on a Sunday. I took the extra time because I really wanted to get this one right. Hope you enjoy and see you next week :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wallpaper was peeling. It was the first thing Grace noticed when she opened her eyes. The old paper was adorned with roses and small, intricate designs. It was probably pretty when it was put up 50 years ago. But it looked stained and sickly now.</p>
<p>With a groan, she heaved herself up into a seated position. The bed was much too soft, and there were a few broken springs that poked her back when she lay in the wrong spot. It might be as old as the wallpaper.</p>
<p>Her head was pounding, and when she looked to the nightstand, she saw ibuprofen and a glass of water. Gratefully, she swallowed a few pills and drained the glass -- then nearly coughed it back up with a wheezing fit. </p>
<p>A knock startled her, and she gasped, “Come in.” The crooked old door swung open to reveal Marnie, holding a generously overfilled breakfast tray.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Grace,” said Marnie, a smile filling her round face. “How are you finding the guest room?” She padded over in ridiculously fluffy slippers to set the tray on the nightstand. They had bunny ears, Grace noted, and like everything else in the ranch house, also looked a few years past their prime. </p>
<p>“Oh, it’s lovely,” Grace lied. Marnie beamed, then crossed to the windows and pulled the musty drapes open. The sun reflected off the glaring snow outside and straight into Grace’s eyes, reigniting her headache. She rubbed her eyes desperately. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you,” she said.</p>
<p>Marnie swiped a line of dust off the window frame and inspected it on her finger with a frown. “Wish I’d cleaned a little first,” she said dolefully. “But oh well.” Then she turned back to Grace, and from her apron pockets began to pull a series of brightly colored bottles and tins. “We’re quite glad to have you, dear. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a guest to use this room!” Then she stood back and began pointing one by one at the vitamins and medicines on the table. “A mix of herbals from me, and recommendations from Harvey. Take these with breakfast, those with lunch, and that one with dinner.”</p>
<p>Grace’s eyes were blurry with tears from the sun and impending migraine, so she just nodded absently and hoped she could figure it out later. She gave another wheezing cough, and Marnie promptly shoved a cup of tea into her hands. “Thanks,” she croaked, taking a sip. </p>
<p>Her bug had gone from bad to worse the moment she’d stepped through Marnie’s front door yesterday afternoon, bags in hand. Marnie said it was her body catching up after so many months of hard work and stress. And something cliche about heartsickness. Grace didn’t remember well. She’d promptly vomited and been escorted to the second floor add-on, where she’d fallen asleep nearly straight through until this morning.</p>
<p>“If your fever doesn’t break by tomorrow morning, I’m calling Harvey,” warned Marnie, resting the back of her hand on Grace’s forehead. She subtly wiped it on her apron after pulling her hand away. “Maybe a shower’s in order, dear. You’re a little...stale.” She gestured to the tiny bathroom off the guest room.</p>
<p>Grace flushed, and not just from the fever. She’d nearly sweat through her sheets and pajamas. And it’s not like she’d been taking very good care of herself before coming to Marnie’s. She nodded, then clutched her head at the throbbing pain that ensued. “Where’s Rusty?” she croaked.</p>
<p>“Out in the barn,” said Marnie. “No animals in the house, I’m afraid.” Grace frowned, her forehead wrinkling viciously, and Marnie laughed. “Don’t worry, Gracie, it’s heated. I have to keep strict rules with a seven-year-old in the house. Tell her a dog’s allowed, and she’ll start bringing the chickens in for dress-up.” Grace raised an eyebrow. “It’s happened twice.”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay,” Grace conceded. “I’ll go see him in the barn, then.” And she started to heave herself up out of bed. Instantly, two strong hands were on her shoulders, shoving her back down.</p>
<p>“Goodness to Yoba, Grace, not on my watch,” said Marnie sweetly, but with a note of finality. “You’re on strict bed rest until you kick this flu. You’re here to get better, dear, not worse.” She pointed to a small, splintered bookcase by the window with a few romance novels and VHSes on it, and the ancient tiny television in the corner. “Entertainment,” she said. “Though, if you want to have some visitors, I know Shane--”</p>
<p>“No visitors,” interrupted Grace firmly. Marnie paused, taking in Grace’s furious glare. They both know it was Shane who’d scheduled the repairs and coop with Robin, and who’d involved Marnie in Grace’s welfare. No one else had known how shit her house was, how broke she’d become, or how sick she’d gotten. </p>
<p>“Okay,” she answered gently. “I’ll let him know. And Jas, for that matter.” But then she put her hand on Grace’s. “Be easy on him, dear. I know you’re mad he tried to help you. But frankly, Grace, it’s best for you that he did.”</p>
<p>“He should mind his own business,” she muttered. Her pride was wounded.</p>
<p>Marnie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You are our business. Please take it easy. He tries to be tough, but we both know he’s not much of a punching bag.” It was hard to argue with Marnie.</p>
<p>Grace gave a weak smile. “I could be persuaded to let him off the hook over a beer, maybe.”</p>
<p>The response was swift. “No alcohol in the house.”</p>
<p>Grace groaned dramatically. “Marnie, how did I get so lucky to have you take care of me?” Her voice was dripping in sarcasm.</p>
<p>Marnie laughed it off with a big-bellied chuckle. “Oh, hun, I’m sure your mother would do the same if she were here.” A knife twisted in Grace’s gut. Hard. “If you talk to her, make sure she knows you’re well taken care of. Would love to catch up with them sometime, too -- especially that dad of yours.” She smiled and shook her head at some long-forgotten memory of her childhood neighbor. Grace felt the blood leave her face. “Oh! You look terrible, Gracie. Take these.” And Marnie shoved the first batch of pills and a plate of scrambled eggs into her face.</p>
<p>Grace pushed them away. “Thanks, Marnie,” she said in a wavering voice. “I think I ought to just rest now, though.”</p>
<p>And after a few more kind words and the promise to call if she needed anything, and another promise to eat all her breakfast, even if she threw it back up in an hour, Grace finally saw Marnie’s back retreat back out of the crooked door. </p>
<p>With a dreadful groan, she heaved herself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Avoiding her reflection, she turned on the shower as hot as it would get and peeled herself out of her pajamas. Then she sank onto the floor of the tub, wrapped in her own two arms and the steam filling the small room, and let the water pour over her. Quietly and stiffly, she let herself cry.</p>
<p>Grace spent the rest of the day fluttering in and out of sleep in front of the tiny, fuzzy TV, tangled in sheets and sweats, and with occasional visits from Marnie to provide food and force Grace to take her meds.</p>
<p>Sometimes she heard murmurs, or snippets of conversation from down the stairs in the kitchen or living room. Marnie yelled at Jas a couple of times for a couple of reasons. And there was no mistaking the heavy footsteps and low tenor of Shane’s voice reverberating up the stairs when he passed through. Grace’s stomach flip-flopped when she heard him -- and she still didn’t know what to make of that feeling -- so she’d slink to the door and try to listen down the stairs, with no luck. Mid-afternoon she heard her name in that deep voice and rushed to the door, but made herself nauseous standing too fast and promptly vomited into the wastebin. The muffled voices from downstairs stopped and in a flash, Marnie was up the stairs and physically forcing Grace back into bed with the astounding strength of a mama bear.</p>
<p>By the next morning, her fever was starting to drop, but her congestion made her sound ridiculous. Which is probably what attracted her next visitor.</p>
<p>Tiny footsteps on the steps. Then a pigtail poking around the doorframe. Followed closely by tiny hands. And then a tiny, bright-eyed face was peering around the corner.</p>
<p>“You’re not thuppothed to be upthairth,” said Grace with significant effort against her pounding sinuses. Jas giggled, then stepped into the doorway. </p>
<p>“Aunt Marnie said you sounded terrible,” said Jas, blue eyes glinting with mischief. “But I think you sound funny.”</p>
<p>Grace stretched with a groan and massaged her nose with both hands. “I gueth tho,” she answered weakly. Jas giggled again.</p>
<p>“Why are you touching your face?” she asked, watching Grace curiously. “Can I--”</p>
<p>“No,” warned Grace, taking her hands down. “Don’t come in. You’ll get thick, too.” Sick. She’ll get sick. Ugh. Grace moved to rub her tired eyes instead. “And I’m very tired and thore.” Sore. “My nothe and my eyeth and my face hurt.” </p>
<p>When she pulled her fists away from her face, she saw Jas waiting patiently in the doorway, hopping foot to foot. Her pigtails were mussy, probably from taking off her winter hat. She still had her snowpants on, and she pulled a crumbled piece of paper out of one pocket. “Miss Penny said I could make you a card today, since I finished the spelling lesson early.” She held it out and asked, “May I please give it to you please?”</p>
<p>Grace’s cold heart warmed a few degrees. “Okay,” she promised. “But here’th what we’re gonna do. You can run up to me thuper quick and give me the card, then you have to run away back to the door. And we’ll both hold our breath so you don’t get my germth.” Germs. </p>
<p>Jas nodded with a big grin. “When I count to three, hold your breath and run! One, two, three!”</p>
<p>Then Grace made a show of holding her breath by puffing up her cheeks, and Jas copied her. Then she sprinted over to Grace’s bedside, snowpants swish-swish-swishing, slapped the construction paper card into her hand, and ran out of the room again. Once she was at the door, both girls made a big display of catching their breaths again.</p>
<p>“The germs couldn’t get me!” said Jas excitedly. Grace nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming. </p>
<p>Jas lit up like she’d been struck by lightning and her face split in half with a grin. “Uncle Shane’s home!” she squealed before sprinting down the stairs at a speed Grace thought dangerous. She heard Shane’s muffled cry of surprise from up the stairs as he was slammed at full speed by a 52lb force with pigtails. Then she heard the muffled back and forth of voices. Grace’s cheeks flushed, certain they were talking about her.</p>
<p>She looked at the card in her hand. Green paper covered in green leaves and trees and plants, and GRACE written in blocky letters. It was folded in half, and when she opened it she was greeted by a vague depiction of what she assumed was her farm. There was a red house, a lot of round smiling shapes with stick legs (animals?), and a happy sun. Hesitantly, Grace checked the back of the card. One more picture -- four stick figures, all holding hands. </p>
<p>She slammed the little card shut and slid it under her pillow before dropping her head back against it. She heard Shane’s low register from downstairs, and as her eyes slid shut, she decided the feeling in her stomach was because his murmurs were so deep and nice to listen to, and she wouldn’t have been able to hear him if she was still at home, so maybe she wasn’t so mad, now, really.</p>
<p>The first time Grace woke up in the morning, it was to Marnie bringing her breakfast. She checked her temperature and chatted about her symptoms. Then she let Grace know that she had to help a friend in Grampleton deliver a lamb. “I’ll be gone all day,” she said, pinching Grace’s cheek. “But you can go down and help yourself to whatever you need if you get hungry. I asked Harvey and he said you’re probably not contagious anymore.” </p>
<p>Grace rubbed her cheek. “Thanks, Marnie,” she said in a thankfully clearer voice. She was still stuffy, but feeling more like herself today. “Actually, I was hoping to run over to the house today. I need to get my facewash and a few things.” </p>
<p>Marnie looked out the window and frowned. “It’s awfully cold out, Gracie. And Robin’s blown half your walls clean open to put in insulation. I’d rather you give me a list, and not risk your health again.” Grace opened her mouth to argue, but thinking about Marnie’s hospitality these last few days, thought the better of it. So she handed Marnie a list on a piece of scrap paper (“Your handwriting is terrible! What does this one even say?”). Then Marnie was out of the door. Grace popped a movie into the VHS and fell asleep again halfway through.</p>
<p>The second time she woke up that morning, it was to a loud knock, then a bang. The door wasn’t latched, so it’d swung right open and hit the wall. “Oops,” said a low voice.</p>
<p>With tremendous effort, she peeled her cheek off her pillow to turn her head to the door. Shane filled the doorframe. </p>
<p>He filled out a thick flannel, tucked into jeans under snowpants held with suspenders. His boots were wet and dripping muddy snow onto the floor. He leaned on one arm against the frame, the other hand in his pocket. The silence in the room weighed heavy on them as they watched each other.</p>
<p>“Heard you’re pissed at me.” His low voice reverberated through her ribs and squeezed her heart. Grace frowned against the sensation.</p>
<p>“Fuck off.” It was their familiar hello.</p>
<p>“I will,” he promised, but didn’t move. After a moment, head throbbing and brain foggy, Grace heaved herself up to a seated position, then crossed her arms. They stayed still for another long moment.</p>
<p>Grace broke the silence. “Marnie’s going to kill you if you keep dripping snow in here,” she said. She was so congested it was actually hard to form the words. But a corner of Shane’s mouth twitched, so it was well worth the effort.</p>
<p>“Let her try,” he said, tapping one boot pointedly so more mud dropped off. Grace cracked a smile.</p>
<p>“Okay,” she relented, loosening her arms. “I’m still pretty unhappy with you.” Stupid Shane smiled at that, a big crooked smile over his stupid stubble and stupid jaw. A muscle under Grace’s eye twitched. “But I wanted to ask you something. If you want to redeem yourself, that is.”</p>
<p>His smile widened. “I’m all ears.” No, he’s all brawn.</p>
<p>“I’ve watched each of those movies on that bookshelf at least once by now. If you have any others around...”</p>
<p>Shane looked a little surprised, but shrugged. “I’ll take a look. Jas has some cartoons, I think.” He shifted his weight to his other foot and tucked a hand into his pocket, a little of the shine wearing off. Almost like he hadn’t expected her to ask that. He’d been so excited a minute ago.</p>
<p>Grace was trying to read his body language when he said, “I have something for you.” Her stomach twisted and she looked at him, but he wasn’t making eye contact anymore. “I stopped by your house. Marnie gave me your list, said you needed a few things.”</p>
<p>She groaned internally. And externally. “She said she’d go. Sorry.”</p>
<p>Shane shrugged. “No trouble.”</p>
<p>“How’s the construction going?” She was still wounded that Shane set things up with Robin without her knowledge, but she was still pretty excited to see the house repairs and new coop.</p>
<p>“It’s coming along. Robin needs a few more days to get things in order.” He was shrinking more into himself, his center of gravity leaning more away from her room with every passing second.</p>
<p>It was too obvious for Grace to ignore. “Shane,” she said, and he visibly started. His face was open and vulnerable, and it worried her. She’d only seen his walls down when he was drinking. “Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>“I don’t -- um,” he started, then stopped. Seeming to rethink his next move, he picked up a plastic bag sitting behind him in the hallway. He walked over to her bed, and pointedly avoiding eye contact, set the bag on the bed next to her. “I couldn’t read your handwriting, so I brought everything from your medicine cabinet.” </p>
<p>He stood there for another moment, both hands jammed in his pockets, seeming to fumble with the words rolling around in his mouth. Finally, he choked out a few too many of those words. “If you want to talk, about… about anything at all, you can. You know, talk. To me. If there’s something that we should...talk about.” </p>
<p>She stared at him, not entirely sure what to say. His stubble looked soft, and up close, she saw it was just as chocolate brown as his hair. Maybe a couple of silver hairs. She wanted to know so badly if it was soft. But from this close, she could also see his cheeks were patchy pink and it was creeping down his neck.</p>
<p>“I...I know,” she said slowly, trying to understand what was bringing this on. “I do talk to you. About stuff.” She racked her brain for what he needed to hear. “I mean, I’m still mad you went behind my back to Marnie and Robin. But I get why you did it. My ego’s just bruised. So I just need to be mad for a little bit. It’ll pass. Is that what you’re talking about?” </p>
<p>He looked at her now, and his expression contorted from worry, to confusion, to despair, to anger so quickly she would have missed it if she’d blink. </p>
<p>“You’re fucking impossible to know, Grace.” And he walked out.</p>
<p>Hot and cold. It felt like a slap in the face, and she didn’t know why. Her heart was beating in her throat. Between the breakup, going broke, getting sick and this bizarre housestay, she couldn’t get her feet under her. Shane was just one more fucking wrench thrown into her day.</p>
<p>But if she could wave a magic wand, the only one of her problems she’d fix is whatever just made Shane walk back out the door and down the stairs in a blazing fury.</p>
<p>Her hands a little shaky, she reached into the bag and began pulling out items. Face wash. Toothpaste. Bobby pins. Dry shampoo. A photograph.</p>
<p>A photograph.</p>
<p>A photograph of Shane, from years before they met here in the Valley, smiling and beautiful in the sun, ripped off a bar wall in Zuzu City from where he would have absolutely known it had been hung, and hidden in her bathroom cabinet for no discernable reason to anyone, let alone its subject.</p>
<p>Oh. OH. Oh no. Shit. Grace slapped her hand onto her forehead so hard it left a red mark and started a fresh new headache. </p>
<p>She could hear the heavy footsteps leave the house, and the door slammed so hard she felt it shake her bed.</p>
<p>Shit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Visitor to the Unknown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, thank you and love you all for your patience! And for being on this journey with me!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A ball of anxiety wound itself so tight in Grace’s stomach, it strangled the flu virus right out of her. When Marnie came upstairs with dinner that night, she remarked on Grace’s pale face, but her temperature was normal and her congestion lessened.</p><p>“I picked you up some of Gus’s fries,” Marnie said with a smile, pointing to a brown bag on the tray. “And Caroline baked some cookies. I think she and Pierre are missing your business this season!” Marnie set the overladen tray on Grace’s nightstand. </p><p>“Thanks Marnie. I think I just need to rest now,” she said quietly. One hand clenched the photograph of Shane under the covers, just out of view. Stupid, stupid girl.</p><p>Marnie gave a sweet smile. “Okay, Gracie dear. You give a holler if you need anything. If you’re feeling well enough, you’re welcome to come down and sit with us, too. We’ll be putting on a movie for Jas tonight.”</p><p>Grace’s anxiety pumped her heart like it was a stress ball. “Thanks,” she gasped. “Maybe.” Blessedly, Marnie got the hint and left. Only once Grace heard her footsteps descend to the bottom of the ratty, carpeted stairs did she curl up and wrap her arms around herself.</p><p>For the rest of the evening, she could hear murmurs through the floors and walls. Marnie humming along to the radio while making dinner, then shrieks followed by an indignant child’s voice, a cluck then the back door slamming. A few long moments, then the door slammed again and Shane’s low mumble joined the mix. Plates and silverware clinking, chairs scraping, and the low buzz and hums of a family dinner downstairs. Within the hour, the chairs, plates, silverware and sink had all moved again, and the trio had migrated to the living room. The jangle of a song on TV echoed up the stairs, with the muffled sounds of each person’s voice and occasional laughs.</p><p>Grace clutched herself tighter, trying to fill the emptiness inside her.</p><p>This was a soundtrack she knew well, from a life now long behind her. It used to play in her childhood home, at her parents’ condo when she visited on weekends from Zuzu City, and for a time, in her grandfather’s house. Now she lived in the husk of those memories, alone in that old house.</p><p>A few tears leaked out of her eye and dripped onto her pillow. Her head was spinning. </p><p>Her dreams were restless, and she was pretty sure she spent more time that night watching the moon cross the sky from her window than with her eyes shut.</p><p>But by the morning, even with dark circles tinting puffy eyes, she was brave enough again to stare herself down in the mirror, toothbrush in hand, and remind herself that she was stronger than the things that broke her.</p><p>So she had to deal with some weird baggage right now. That’s fine. She ended her old life and still had the power to shape this one.</p><p>With renewed confidence, clean hair, fresh sweatpants and a puffy jacket, she stomped down the stairs. Marnie and Jas were in the kitchen eating yogurt, and looked up at Grace in surprise. “Feeling better, honey?” asked Marnie, spoon halfway to her mouth.</p><p>Grace squatted by the door and tugged on her winter boots, still sitting haphazard on the mat where she’d abandoned them a few days prior. “Perfect,” Grace growled, eyes glinting.</p><p>Without another word, she burst out the front door and slammed it shut, then faced the winter wonderland spread before her. The snow sparkled in the cold, dim morning sun. A few flurries were still falling. If she squinted, she could see the lakeshore and the dock far down the path from Marnie’s ranch. She blew a white puff of air and grinned, more from determination than joy. Grimaced, really.</p><p>Then she stepped off the step and started towards the barn, following a well-worn path through the snowdrifts. She looked down at the bootsteps. One set of tracks were particularly large. She started stepping in the middle of those ones.</p><p>When she got closer to the barn, she stopped and looked up. It was huge. Robin often called it her crowning achievement in all of Pelican Town. It somehow looked even bigger than Grace remembered from her childhood, but maybe that’s because now she knows how much work it is to maintain.</p><p>A memory sparked: the trees behind the barn used to have a swing on them. She could see a moldy piece of rope still swinging on a frozen branch. Her grandfather put it up for Marnie. He used to have to lift her onto it when she was small. Shane would push her sometimes.</p><p>She shook her head. Not the time.</p><p>With a sigh, she pushed through the door.</p><p>Almost immediately, the wind was knocked out of her. Rusty had slammed into Grace, leaping and wiggling and trying to lick her face. With a surprised laugh, she squatted and batted at his jaw, letting him nip her gloves and jump around. Once he burned off a little anxiety, she stood again and started heading towards the massive piles of hay towards the back. She could hear muffled noise from behind the largest stack.</p><p>Shane was sweating through his barn clothes, hay stuck in his hair and his curls stuck to his forehead. He was moving hay into a wheelbarrow, presumably for feeding the horses down the way, strong hands gripping a large bedding fork. It was obvious he didn’t hear her coming, and she took advantage of the moment to watch him work.</p><p>Finally, Grace called attention to herself with a weak, “Hi.” Shane, seemingly expecting the interruption, came to a stop mid-motion and slowly turned to face her.</p><p>His eyes, usually welcoming and warm, were cold. His face was drawn. And the way he stood tall and proud, but tense and rigid, told her this would be an expected, but still unpleasant conversation. She took a calming breath to ease her nerves, Rusty close by her side.</p><p>“What?” Shane took the first shot. She winced.</p><p>“I think we need to talk,” she said calmly.</p><p>“Dying to.” His voice was dripping in sarcasm. Too late, she realized he’s hurt, and that’s why his walls were up and armed. Her heart hurt a little knowing she’d wounded him earlier. But her resolve was strong.</p><p>She pulled the photograph out of her pocket and held it like a white flag. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know where to start.”</p><p>“Let’s start simple, then,” said Shane, jamming the bedding fork into a thick pile of hay and leaning on the handle. “Tell me why you have that.”</p><p>Grace shifted from foot to foot. “I found it in...a bar. You can have it back, if you want.” She extended the photo, but he didn’t move to take it.</p><p>“Which bar?”</p><p>“Pete’s.”</p><p>“Right.” He remained frozen, his eyes were narrowed. “You didn’t answer my question though. Tell me why you have it.”</p><p>Grace felt a chill in her spine. He was a pillar of strength before her. She forgot, she always forgot, that no matter how soft and fun Shane was, he was unrelenting, too. “I...I don’t know,” she confessed. </p><p>“Wish you did.” He finally extended a hand to take the photograph from her. Carefully, so their fingers didn’t touch. “Because I don’t fucking understand at all.” </p><p>Grace zipped her jacket up a little higher, exhaling through the tension in her chest. “I was just so surprised to see it...and I wanted it. You looked...you looked really happy, I guess.”</p><p>“Well, it’s a little reassuring,” he said, inspecting the photo and scratching the stubble on his cheek. “That someone else knows this is where I should be.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>Shane didn’t answer. “Do you remember me?” He was still stern, the lines in his face cut deep with worry, but there was a soft vulnerability in his eyes.</p><p>Grace felt backed into a corner, alone in the middle of the hayloft. “Yeah,” she said gently. “When we were growing up, and you would--”</p><p>“No,” he interrupted sharply. “Do you remember me at Pete’s?” He took a shaky breath. “Because I remember you.” Their eyes met.</p><p>Grace’s breath caught in her throat. She’d been to Pete’s countless times when she’d lived in the city. Always with her friends, getting smashed, playing pool, flirting with boys. Letting them buy her drinks. Laughing at their jokes. Flirting under dim lights. Taking them home. </p><p>Always boys she didn’t know. Didn’t remember later. Didn’t even remember now.</p><p>“I didn’t know who you were, I guess. Maybe I did, on some level. And that’s why I liked you, even from far away. We didn’t really talk. Once, sort of, when you were pretty wasted. But I was always behind the bar, or shooting the shit with Jen and Pete, and you were always around with your friends. Fuck, Grace, you’re so pretty, you were like the center of the whole damn room, no matter where you were.” </p><p>Her heart was in her throat. Shane frowned to himself and continued. “I remember you on the bus, the day you got here. It was like a fucking lightening bolt. ‘Why’s she here?’ But here you were. And I realized. Maybe years too late. But I finally knew who you were.”</p><p>His face tightened, his eyebrows drew together, and his jaw clenched. He looked at her, and before he opened his mouth, she knew he was laying his cards on the table.</p><p>“What am I supposed to make of this, Grace?” He waved the photograph in the air. “Why did you take it? Why did I find it? Why do I keep finding you, at every fucking turn? I don’t know what to do. Can you tell me what to do?”</p><p>His voice cracked at the end. It broke her heart, just a little bit.</p><p>She straightened her spine, fighting her instinct to wrap her arms around him. He was a friend. A friend. That’s it. “I just liked it, Shane. A picture of my friend.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t lie.” His voice was like a whip. She actually recoiled. </p><p>“You haven’t treated me like a friend in a long time. Haven’t you noticed? All your other friends stopped calling.”</p><p>She kept her spine straight, even as her palms started sweating. It was more important than ever to look confident. Like she made these choices. And she wanted these outcomes. “They respected my space. More than you did, Shane. And I’m still pissed at you for that.”</p><p>“No, you’re not.” He brushed her off, gesturing with his hand as he said it.</p><p>Grace bristled, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Maybe she imagined it, but out of the corner of her eye, it looked like Rusty’s fur on the back of his neck was raised, too. “You didn’t respect my choices. You don’t get to decide what’s right for me.”</p><p>“You needed help,” he replied calmly. “And you were only ready to accept it from me.”</p><p>“No, I didn’t!” Grace yelled. Her fists were clenched and she didn’t notice. “I never asked you to fix my problems. Fuck off, Shane! You don’t know me.”</p><p>He put his hands on her shoulders, letting the farm tool fall, and held her gaze with her own. The heat between them caught fire, for the second time in their lives. The weight of his hands on her was comfortable. Her fury fought against her desire to melt into his arms completely and find out if his stubble would scratch her chin, if his lips were as soft as they looked. Regretfully, she could recognize the smell of whiskey on his breath.</p><p>“I’ve known you our whole lives,” he said in a low voice. “I can help you. Because I know you. Better than you do. Better than myself. Still, better than myself,” he repeated quietly. His face clouded, and she dimly remembered an early conversation with Marnie. As long as she’d known him, as long as he’d been alive, life hadn’t been easy for Shane.</p><p>He continued, his eyes a little glazed. “You wouldn’t accept help,” he said quietly. “And I couldn't afford to wait until you were ready to accept help. When you’ve gone through what I have...you stop caring what others think. It was worth it, even if you resented me. Even if you hate me.”</p><p>For just a moment, unseen from the outside, Grace wrestled with herself. Her past, which she’d shed like a second skin just for a chance at a fresh start in Pelican Town, was creeping back on her. </p><p>She let herself remember her old friends, weekend nights always ending at Pete’s Place, and bright lights on a dark skyline. When her parents died, a light inside of Grace went out. She’d closed the curtains on everything. She wouldn’t answer their calls, or let them visit, or go out. And eventually, they’d stopped trying. And she’d pretended she was better off that way.</p><p>Now, here she was, in the throes of a second failure, barely six months into the new life she’d been crafting for herself.</p><p>She couldn’t stop the tears from welling in the corners of her eyes. Who could?</p><p>And Shane took it as permission to wrap her in his big, strong arms, so tightly that she could hardly breathe. She smothered her face in his stinky, dirty, ugly barn clothes, and let the salty tears drip out. </p><p>All the pain of the last few months -- loving and losing Sebastian, fearing failure on her farm, then failing, humbling herself to the help of her neighbors, the interest and confusion in Shane -- bubbled to the surface and dripped down her face and into Shane’s shirt.</p><p>Despite herself, she wrapped her arms around his thick waist and took a deep, rattling breath in. Stale alcohol and sweat, pine, pizza, the wind off the lake, and of course, hay. Maybe something else she couldn’t name. She was sure she knew it from a dream.</p><p>Finally, they pulled apart and stood apart with some discomfort. The silence between them was crushing. Shane pulled a hand through his hair, tearing apart his neat curls. </p><p>“I…” he said quietly, in his low voice. “I don’t know what’s next.”</p><p>Grace hurriedly wiped her wet face before pulling up her posture. She replied, in a steadier voice than she thought possible, “I think it’s up to us. Depending.”</p><p>“Depending.” Shane rolled the word around his mouth. She could tell his tongue was a little less sharp from the whiskey. He seemed to mull on it for an hour, but it had only been a moment.</p><p>He looked at her again, and she met his eyes. Their conversation was far from over. But it was paused. In one look, they confirmed it all.</p><p>“I’m going to the Stardrop,” he suddenly announced, picking up the bedding fork from where he’d dropped it and setting it against the barn wall. He pulled his winter jacket on from a hook by the door, giving her a meaningful look over her shoulder. “I’ll be at my usual table.” Then he opened the barn door, stepped into the winter storm, and let it fall closed behind him.</p><p>Grace felt the tension leave her body and she sank onto a hay bale, head in her hands. Her past, her present, her options, her opinions, her ego, rolled like marbles around her mind. It was a wonder she wasn’t dizzy sitting there. What did he mean, walking out like that?</p><p>Rusty, keen for attention, jammed his nose under her arm. Mindlessly, she scratched his ears, still mulling the moment over. What did he mean?</p><p>She froze. An idea.</p><p>Not twenty minutes later, Shane looked up to see the chair opposite him occupied by a wild-haired brunette with a mess of freckles on her nose and a fire in her eyes. Before he could open his mouth, her hand was in his face.</p><p>“Hi, I’m Grace. I’m new to town. Maybe you’ve heard of me.”</p><p>The corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t know you,” he retorted. “Why are you talking to me?”</p><p>“I’m up at Hillcrest Farm,” she pushed on, her hair glowing in the light. “Heard of it?”</p><p>Shane’s eyes were wide and crinkled with the hint of a laugh. “A farmer? Don’t you have work to do?”</p><p>But he took her hand in his own with a firm shake, then pushed a pint of beer over to her. It was sweaty, and maybe a little warm. He’d ordered it when he got in, along with his own, already half drunk. She took a slug and didn’t seem to mind. They exchanged shy, then grand smiles.</p><p>Outside, the snow continued to fall.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact, those are some of Shane's first dialogues ;) Just for the fun of pretending they can have a fresh start</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Watch You Bloom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW for mentions of abuse, alcoholism, depression</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Guys this one is SO LONG. All my Shane stans, eat your hearts out. Hope you love reading this as much as I enjoying writing it &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As long as he’d been alive, life hadn’t been easy for Shane.</p>
<p>Growing up, he had too much energy and not enough outlets. It didn’t help that his dad had them living in a closet of an apartment in Grampleton. He fantasized about a yard and a blue sky, like what he saw in the picture books at kindergarten. But when he looked out his window, he’d see a city of concrete and a sky of gray, unchanged every day.</p>
<p>When the window washer came by, maybe twice a year, Shane would press his little face against the glass and wave. The washer would usually wave back, or make a smiley face on the window with soap. Depended on who it was though.</p>
<p>His dad set out his breakfast cereal, drove him to and from elementary school, and gave him a hot microwaved meal each night. That was about where the good news ended. His dad left his mark with few bruises from the times he grabbed Shane too hard or pushed him aside. But he mostly just left Shane alone. Even when Shane would smash his lego buildings into pieces in the living room, or scream in a fit of rage, his dad’s eyes would slide over the room, he didn’t even notice he was there. Their apartment reeked of liquor and cigarettes. To Shane, it smelled like home.</p>
<p>He liked his neighbor, Miss May, and her crinkly eyes and tissue paper skin, even if she smelled musty. She once told him she’d lived in the building since before his dad had been born, and it made his little eyes grow wide. Then she handed him a chocolate bar and gave him a firm pat on the head with a grisled old hand. Her apartment had a lot of candy squirreled away in cabinets. She had a handheld Yahtzee game that she taught him how to play. When he asked nicely with the magic word (“please”), she’d let him borrow it overnight. </p>
<p>He confided in her about wanting a yard and showed her his crayon drawings of his dream house, that he and daddy would live in with a dog and a red front door. She’d gone very quiet, pondering his words and leaning heavy on her cane. The next afternoon, she led him to the elevator and walked him out of the building and across the street, where an older gentleman stood waiting by the fence to the neighboring building. He and Miss May exchanged pleasantries before he let her and young Shane through the gate. In the courtyard, enclosed by the stony walls of the building, there was a small neon, plasticky playground with a couple other kids running around on it. In his eyes, it was a castle. He sprinted off to play, Miss May sitting with her friend on the bench.</p>
<p>They had a routine, where she’d invite him to watch TV after school when his dad was out late, or she’d walk him to the playground on some weekend mornings. She gave him candy at first, but worked her way up to feeding him vegetables, and meatloaf, and chicken pot pie. All made from scratch. Her apartment was fully carpeted and she had squishy furniture and big, patterned curtains. It was warm and soft and cozy. Eventually, that musty smell didn’t bother him anymore.</p>
<p>One morning, he woke up to the sound of footsteps and voices outside. He tugged open his apartment door to find the narrow hallway crowded with adults in blue and red uniforms, talking in low voices. Miss May’s door was open. Two people walked out with a stretcher and a sheet pulled all the way up. One of them saw Shane and stepped in front of the stretcher. She opened her mouth to say something, but he’d already closed the door. New neighbors moved in a few weeks later, a young couple who wore all black and had tattoos. They didn’t ever talk to Shane, or take him to the playground.</p>
<p>Then his aunt came to visit. He remembered he wasn’t scared of her at first, even though she was a stranger, because her big hugs made him feel safe and warm, and she looked at him like he was important. She gave him a little green toy tractor, made of real metal, not plastic. They ate cookies and milk, then she and his dad talked about adult things while he played under the table.</p>
<p>As soon as school let out for the summer, his dad stuffed his bags into the trunk, drove him three hours away to Aunt Marnie’s ranch house, and dropped him on her doorstep. </p>
<p>She’d welcomed Shane into her home with open arms, let him settle into her guest room and even helped him decorate it to make it his own. When he’d asked for dark blue paint at home, his dad had said it would make the room too hot, and when he’d asked for an allowance to hang posters, his dad had sniped that they would damage the walls. Here in Pelican Town, he was laying on a bed with clean sheets, admiring the gridball posters covering his walls, and gulping deep breaths that smelled like fresh paint and country air through the open window.</p>
<p>He wasn’t much for socializing or making friends. He was pretty content to play alone, or to pet Aunt Marnie’s animals while she worked. She taught him how to milk a cow and pick up chicken eggs, and he glowed when she said he was her little helper. But it bothered her that he didn’t have friends his own age, so she started introducing him around town. The kids his age -- mostly a year or two younger -- were terrifying. Sam in particular was a blond menace on wheels. Shane avoided them, and if Aunt Marnie sent him off to play, he’d hide and explore on his own.</p>
<p>The only one who didn’t get under his skin was the girl at Hillcrest Farm. Aunt Marnie and the old farmer were neighbors and good friends, so she was thrilled that Shane could tolerate the farmer’s granddaughter long enough for Marnie to get her chores done. </p>
<p>Grace taught Shane marbles, and he taught her gridball. She showed him the creepy cave in the corner of her grandpa’s farm, and he showed her the paths from Aunt Marnie’s house down to the lake and to the forest. They’d switch each day playing at the ranch or at the farm, and as long as they didn’t leave the sight of their caretaker for the day, then the world was theirs for the taking.</p>
<p>The summers were too short. One day, he’d wake up to a wide blue sky and a glittering sun, the sounds of birds, a hug from Aunt Marnie, not a care in the world. The next, he’d be back in the gray cinderblock box, eating a silent dinner with his dad while the TV droned on. The closing curtain was always the red sedan that pulled into the farm driveway. Grace would leap up with glee, rushing to see her parents, and Shane would run back to the ranch and hide tearfully in the hayloft until his dad’s clunker pulled into Marnie’s driveway.</p>
<p>Time went on. His dad didn’t drive him to middle school, not even on his first day, or pick him up after school. Instead, Shane started picking his dad up, off the floor or slumped on the couch. He started doing some of the shopping, pocketing a few dollars from his dad’s pocket when he was sleeping, and visiting the corner store on his way home from school a couple days a week for microwave noodle cups and hot dogs.</p>
<p>Sometimes, when his dad was passed out in the recliner in front of the TV, Shane would slip the bottle of brown out of his hands and take a sip. The first couple of times, it was terrible, and he would sputter and gag. But then he discovered it made him warm. And he started taking bigger sips. </p>
<p>It was spring, sixth grade. He was so excited for summer. He’d been reading books about chickens, and he was going to ask Aunt Marnie to let him incubate some eggs in his room as a science experiment. His teacher thought it was an excellent idea. He’d even sketched some ideas in his agenda book.</p>
<p>But he came into school late wearing the same clothes he’d worn yesterday. It made his teacher worried. And when she leaned over to talk to him, she smelled the alcohol on his breath. Everything was over very quickly then.</p>
<p>He’d screamed and cried and begged, said it wasn’t his dad’s fault, it was his fault, he was the one who tried the alcohol and forgot to get dressed, and he was sorry it’s just that he was running late to school because the alcohol had made him really tired, and he didn’t mean to be late, and he knew it was bad and why wasn’t he being punished instead of his dad, and what was happening?</p>
<p>By the end of it all, he was living with his late mother’s parents in a condo on the other side of town, and his dad was in the wind. He tried writing letters or begged his grandparents to call him, so he could say he was sorry, but they didn’t know how to reach him. </p>
<p>When Shane went to bed, he couldn’t sleep. Because when he closed his eyes, he saw his dad looking back at him as he walked out of the courtroom, and his eyes were black with sadness and disdain. Now as an adult, when Shane was hungover and scruffy, he saw that same damn face looking back at him in the mirror. </p>
<p>He didn’t go back to Aunt Marnie’s. He begged his grandparents to let him go, and they’d talked to Marnie at length on the phone, but in the end, decided he needed to recuperate and adjust to his new neighborhood and school.</p>
<p>He didn’t want to adjust. He mourned his carefree days in the valley and the friends (friend, really) that he left behind. Aunt Marnie’s house was covered wall-to-wall with pictures and posters. Her cabinets were filled with mismatched cups and plates and silverware. Her laugh boomed and filled every corner of the house. The windows were always open. And the door was always unlocked. His grandparents’ condo had matching dishes and they were all fragile. They always double-locked the door and kept safety latches on the windows. They had a Yoba shrine in their closet and wouldn’t let Shane touch it. Their walls were bare, except for a picture of his mother in the living room. He used to stare at it for hours, desperately searching for similarities in her face to his, but would always walk away feeling like more of a stranger than he had before.</p>
<p>Gridball saved his life. Shane slacked off in his new school. He didn’t make any friends. In fact, he got into a few fights. But being taller and stronger than some of the other boys his age had its advantages. After his third detention, the gridball coach approached him and on a hunch, had him try out for the team.</p>
<p>His grandparents couldn’t afford the seasonal fee, the gear, or the travel to his away games, but that was okay because the school had a fund for kids like Shane. And he was good. Really good. He made varsity in his first year in high school. His middle school coach went to his first home game to cheer him on. </p>
<p>Later that year, Shane’s grandfather died. Life went on.</p>
<p>He met Pete at the end of his sophomore year. Pete ran track. They trained together all summer. Then they met Jennifer junior year. She came to all their games and races, and sat with Shane’s grandmother in the bleachers. Jen started dating Pete the following summer.</p>
<p>Senior year, Shane got a scholarship to Zuzu City University to play gridball. He was built like a tank, burning his anger, bitterness and turmoil like it was gasoline. It kept him healthy. It kept him sane. Plus Pete and Jennifer were his guardrails. The three of them were a matched set, wouldn’t go anywhere without the other. Naturally, they went to Zuzu City U, too. They split an apartment. </p>
<p>Halfway through his first year in college, Shane’s grandmother died. Life went on.</p>
<p>Dealing with the house and paperwork was stressful. He started drinking with a few guys on the gridball team at college parties, just to cope. The liquor tasted better now. It went down easy. By the end of his first year, he was failing school. He couldn’t afford summer classes as it was, and they weren’t covered by his scholarship, so he needed some cash. He got a part-time job, and Pete joined him.</p>
<p>They were bar-backing at an old dump a few metro stops away from the apartment. It was a dirty hole in the wall, a far cry from the neon bars around the Zuzu City U dorms. The regulars were rough: good people sanded down by life’s hardships until they were coarse and raw. Shane loved it. He was one of them. And after a time, Pete found his groove, too.</p>
<p>The seasoned bartenders and grisly customers saw right through the two of them. They helped coach Shane and Pete how to drink like men, less like boys. They helped Shane stay under control. Because he didn’t want to drink, not really. He just wanted an escape from the shit he was so bad at. And at the bar, he felt like he did playing gridball, and helping on Marnie’s ranch. He was good at it.</p>
<p>By the end of their four years at school, Shane and Pete were cornerstones of the pub, and Jen was waiting tables on weekend nights. On their last day on campus, diplomas in hand, Pete and Jennifer hugged their parents and celebrated relative freedom. No one witnessed Shane graduate. He shirked away from the invitation to celebrate with Pete’s and Jen’s families. He should’ve called Marnie, but he didn’t think she’d answer. Under it all, he was still the shy, lonely kid, scared to play with others.</p>
<p>Shane got his own apartment, and Pete and Jen moved to one down the block because let’s face it, the three of them couldn’t be apart from each other. They worked at the bar a few more years before Pete and Jen scrounged up the funds to buy it themselves. (It didn’t hurt that their parents pitched them a loan.) Pete’s Place was born, with Pete and Jen as co-owners and Shane their manager. The crowd of rugged regulars was now co-populated with the trio’s friends from college, and the atmosphere continued to warm and liven a little more every day.</p>
<p>A year later, Pete and Jen were married, and within a few months, she was pregnant. At the same time, the bar was thriving, and with a few design and marketing changes, and the introduction of a new website, they became one of Zuzu City’s favorite dives.</p>
<p>When Jas was born, Jen practically forced her into Shane’s unwilling arms. “As godfather,” she’d declared, hospital gown swirling around her, “You’re her rock. You need to be her number one from day one.” Shane had balked, scared to death of hurting or mishandling this soft, perfect little being. But she’d stayed peacefully asleep in his arms, and he relaxed.</p>
<p>By the time she was six months old, he could practically juggle her blindfolded. Maybe not literally. But she spent more time in Shane’s arms than in her bouncer. He knew her every cry and hum and giggle, and exactly what they meant. And he could hold her in one arm and throw darts with the other. By the time she was a year old, he was helping her stand and feeding her mush carrots. Jas was a ball of giggles and puffy dark hair. She could say “Mama” and “Dada.” To her, he was “Say.”</p>
<p>Shane talked to cute girls at the bar, sometimes took them home. He didn’t date anyone for long. There was one brunette with a mess of freckles on her face and arms and an absolutely hideous laugh. She was beautiful in a way that felt familiar and safe. He couldn’t work up the nerve to talk to her, no matter how often Pete and Jen poked and prodded. The closest he came was getting her some water one night when she was particularly wasted. By the next time he saw her, he could tell by the way she glazed over him that she didn’t remember, and he stopped trying and moved on to the next girl in line. Still, he’d watch her dance from over the rim of his pint glass, and his insides would warm when he heard her voice.</p>
<p>Those years were blissful. Their haphazard family celebrated holidays and milestones and everyday wonders. Shane’s fridge was covered in drawings and little crafts by Jas. She even had her own tiny bedroom in his apartment. He let her decorate it. Late nights working at the bar meant tradeoffs between the three of them, but with a full staff it was easy enough. On special nights they hired a babysitter and had a real night on the town, just the three of them.</p>
<p>Then, the accident.</p>
<p>Shane fought so fucking hard to keep Jas. Pete’s and Jen’s parents both had moved away from Grampleton, to different states altogether. Moving away would be too much of a change -- Jas knew him and she needed him, he argued. He could give her routine, keep her safe, make her happy. She needed him. (He needed her.)</p>
<p>They relented. Didn’t have much choice, anyways. He was her godfather. Pete and Jen had left Shane their daughter, their bar -- everything.</p>
<p>Only after he’d won did the armor crack. He slumped on his couch, top buttons of his dress shirt undone and his suit jacket on the floor. Jas was on her bed, asleep and exhausted after sobbing at the graveyard, screaming that her shoes hurt, and fighting desperately at home not to have to change out of her nice dress. The funeral only ended a couple hours before, but it already felt like a distant memory. And a dark cloud set in.</p>
<p>How the fuck was he supposed to take care of a five year old alone? They were cramped in his apartment, but he couldn’t afford a larger one. There was no way he could schedule work hours around her. Someone else would have to start to manage the bar, he couldn’t do it. But he wasn’t going to pull enough income for the two of them. Pete and Jen hadn’t had anything saved. Their parents would probably pitch in if he asked.</p>
<p>But, Shane thought, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, the problem wasn’t money. The problem was that he couldn’t face this alone. </p>
<p>So he dragged himself over to the phone and dialed a number he’d never quite forgotten. Two rings, then the line clicked. “Hello?”</p>
<p>“Aunt Marnie? It’s Shane.” He rested his head against the cool metal of the fridge and begged his pounding heart to slow. “I need your help.”</p>
<p>By the end of the month, the bar was in the hands of two new enthusiastic co-managers, Shane an owner only in name. Pete and Jen’s apartment was empty, as was Shane’s. And he and Jas, along with everything they owned, were piled into Aunt Marnie’s rusty, old, shitbox car and trailer.</p>
<p>When he walked through the door of the ranch house, he couldn’t help but marvel at how everything was true to his memories. The only change was the addition of a tiny second story, just big enough for another bedroom and bathroom, and narrow stairs. Aunt Marnie showed Jas to her room, a small space tucked under the stairs, bright pink and princess themed. Before Marnie could direct Shane to the new room upstairs, more private and sized for an adult, he had already cracked open the door to his old room. His heart caught in his throat. It was exactly as he’d left it. It was clean and neat, no dust in sight. He turned, tears in his eyes to Aunt Marnie, and she silently enveloped him in a hug. Even though she had to stand on her toes this time, he felt as safe and warm as he had when he was five.</p>
<p>Their first month in town, they settled into a routine. Shane helped Marnie on the ranch, especially with the chores that made her back sore, and he got a part-time job at Joja Mart to help pay the bills. One of the young women in town, Penny, was tutoring another boy Jas’s age, and she gladly welcomed Jas into her classes. </p>
<p>Jas took to Pelican Town like a fish to water. She was fast friends with Vincent, won over Penny immediately, got free snacks from Pierre, and was beloved by all the townsfolk.</p>
<p>“You know,” whispered Aunt Marnie, elbowing Shane. “She reminds me so much of you at this age.” They were parked on a bench at the edge of the playground, watching Jas leap and swing from the structures, Vincent timidly following her lead.</p>
<p>Shane tucked his hands into his Joja-issued hoodie. He had an hour to kill before his shift, and he’d been lax on his time with Jas since he’d started working. Every so often, she’d look over at him and smile, or yell, “Watch!” before a particularly daring stunt. Her thick black hair was tied tight in neat buns, courtesy of Marnie. He chastised himself for not knowing how to do her hair. But every time he ran a brush through her thick locks, he saw Jen’s black hair glinting in the sun from the bleachers of the high school gridball stadium, and his heart would break again.</p>
<p>“She’s nothing like me,” he said, watching her leap off a swing. At this age, he would have been hiding from Sam and Sebastian and searching for shells alone on the beach. “She’s brave.”</p>
<p>Aunt Marnie clapped a hand on his shoulder and laughed. “You’d be surprised. You were pretty adventurous once you teamed up with little Gracie.”</p>
<p>Shane frowned. He’d begrudgingly reconnected with all the Pelican Town kids, now adults with baggage of their own, except for the granddaughter of the Hillcrest Farmer. “Whatever happened to her -- and the farmer? Are they still around?”</p>
<p>Marnie shrugged. “Haven’t seen the family since he passed. Well over ten years ago, by now. Maybe more than fifteen.” Shane watched Jas and Vincent investigate something on the ground, poking it with a stick. He just grunted in response. </p>
<p>Shane wasn’t oblivious to Marnie’s financial situation. He and Jas were a heavy burden, though she’d never admit it. The fridge was always stocked, and Jas had new clothes that fit, and toys to play with. But he’d catch Marnie at the kitchen table late at night, mulling over papers with her glasses perched at the end of her nose. The lines under her eyes betrayed her assurances that all was fine.</p>
<p>Pete’s bar wasn’t pulling enough income to cover Shane and Jas, especially given the overhead costs to maintain the place. And part-time work at Joja Mart wasn’t cutting it. So he upped it to full-time, which also secured health insurance for him and Jas, making their occasional visits to Harvey’s clinic far less costly. He’d wake up early to muck the animal pens and haul hay. He started paying rent to Aunt Marnie, despite her insistence otherwise. He bought more groceries and took Jas out for ice cream. The lines disappeared from Marnie’s face.</p>
<p>They appeared on Shane’s. He was tired all the time and could never catch up. He started missing moments with Jas -- small ones at first, like an afternoon trip to the park, but then bigger moments, like when she fell in the kitchen and knocked out her first baby tooth. She cried a lot. She’d been having nightmares since her parents died, and most nights would sneak into Shane’s room and sleep in his bed with him. Marnie and Harvey frowned on it and both said she needed to learn independence. But Shane let it continue. It was the most time he got to spend with her anymore. Even if her nightmares and kicking kept him awake.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, his boss at Joja was ruthless. He made Shane do all the nastiest cleanups, even when Sam was also on shift, because he said Sam had seniority and Shane was the bottom of the food chain. When he stacked shelves, he had to do it twice, because Morris would always find flaws. He had to lift all the heaviest pallets and boxes, because he was still built like a college gridball player, but on top of hauling ass at the farm, it was wearing him out. And all the while Morris reminded him he was replaceable. Disposable. Useless.</p>
<p>It was something he’d known since he was born.</p>
<p>One night, he got off his shift late with five missed calls from Aunt Marnie and a voicemail saying she’d taken Jas to a movie, and assumed he was too busy to join them. Shane locked up the store, exhausted and reeking after scrubbing dried vomit from the freezer aisle. The wind cut right through him. He was so empty and cold, he just wanted to feel warm again. Or feel nothing. His feet carried him to the Stardrop Saloon before he knew it, and in the blink of an eye he was sitting at the bar, a blue haired bartender grinning at him, with a beer in his hand.</p>
<p>He only needed one. Just one. He could control himself. He just needed to numb the pain for a night.</p>
<p>But he came back the next night. And every night after. Until the nights all blended together.</p>
<p>Shane fell backwards through the rest of the year and landed below his lowest expectations. He was on autopilot at work, and what’s worse, he was on autopilot at home, too. He knew it hurt Jas he couldn’t be a better parent to her. He saw it in her eyes. And in Marnie’s, too. But they didn’t say anything, because they knew something in him had broken. He understood, because he hated himself for it, too, and it made him shrink further away. His gut swelled from the drinking, and for the first time, he felt truly uncomfortable in his own skin. </p>
<p>Pelican Town, his childhood refuge, became a prison. His room used to be a safe place, a space all to himself. Now, it was a reminder of his failures, that despite all the chances he’d had in life, he’d flubbed them all and landed right back where he was when he was five. His grief broke him in half, and some days he could hardly move for the pain.</p>
<p>When he’d wake up in the morning, face greasy and beard scruffy, his shirt stained, and he’d look at himself in the mirror, he saw his father. The same dark eyes that once drifted over him without a second thought were now boring holes in him through the glass. Finally, he was seen.</p>
<p>Shane ripped his mirror off the wall, bloodying his fingers.Then he shut the curtains and drank the rest of the liquor in the bottle next to his bed.</p>
<p>Still, life went on.</p>
<p>Jas was adapting to her new life and Marnie took the girl under her wing and out from under Shane’s. And a pipe burst in the bar. It had been over a year since Shane fled the city, and here he was summoned back to meet with the landlord, the construction company, and a lawyer.</p>
<p>He’d had more than a few beers throughout the day, working on the ranch in the hot sun, so he couldn’t drive Aunt Marnie’s car to the city and opted for the bus instead. He slept the whole way, waking up hungover in the Zuzu City bus terminal to the driver snapping his fingers in his face. He stumbled out of the bus and grabbed a soda and slice of pizza from a street vendor stand before ambling down the street to the bar.</p>
<p>When he got to Pete’s, he had to stand outside for a few minutes to work up the nerve to head in. The building looked the same from the outside. There was a new flower shop across the street, and the city implemented parking meters out front. But that was it. When he finally stepped through the door, he found the inside hadn’t changed, either. That is, except for the memorial wall behind the bar for Pete and Jen. He turned away.</p>
<p>The lawyer, landlord and head contractor were sitting waiting for him. The lawyer extended his hand, and he wiped the crumbs and grease on his Joja sweatshirt before grasping it. The lawyer’s nose wrinkled in distaste and his lip rose in a sneer. Despite the heated conversations about cost and timing and materials for the renovation, the only thing Shane remembered about the meeting was that look of contempt. </p>
<p>That night, as he stayed locked in the back office of the bar, the memory of that look drove him to open the whiskey bottle stashed in the desk. And when he heard his old friends’ voices carry in under the door, pool balls clicking and laughter echoing, he looked at himself and the sloppy, heartbroken heap he was, coward hiding in the back room. His hand reached for the doorknob but he froze before he could open it. His shame drove him to finish the bottle.</p>
<p>He woke up the next morning slumped against the locked office door, drool dried into his whiskers, papers sprawled on the desk and still unsigned. The clock read 12:43pm. Hurriedly, he scrawled his signature across them, pissed and splashed water on his face in the employee bathroom, and nearly forgot to re-lock the front door as he ran to catch the bus back to Pelican Town.</p>
<p>Once seated, he slumped in his seat and closed his eyes to sleep more. He’d forgotten to drink water. Now his head was splitting in half. His only hope to stave off the headache was to sleep until Pelican Town.</p>
<p>Crack. A loud noise behind him snapped him awake about three hours later. The edges of his vision were red from the pain in his temples. </p>
<p>He turned and gave a glare as ferocious as he felt. The girl behind him was rubbing a red mark on her forehead, her freckled nose wrinkled in pain. She looked briefly surprised at his glare before glowering right back. “Keep it down,” Shane growled. The girl flipped her hair back off her shoulder, leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. He turned back to the front and closed his eyes again.</p>
<p>Something nagged at him though. She looked familiar. He squeezed his eyelids shut tighter and furrowed his brow, scouring his memory, but it was still too foggy to function.</p>
<p>The bus slammed to a stop, and Penny’s ma, Pam, stood up from her seat at the helm. “Everybody off!” she hollered.</p>
<p>Shane’s eyes snapped open. He stood and stretched, then looked back at the girl. She was still glowering. His lips parted, almost ready to ask, but he snapped his mouth shut and slipped off the bus.</p>
<p>It didn’t hit him until he was back at Aunt Marnie’s. And when it did, it nearly took him off his feet.</p>
<p>Oh. The bar. She was the cute girl from the bar. What the fuck.</p>
<p>His head was spinning when he stepped through the front door. Without a word to Marnie or Jas in the living room, he beelined for the sink and splashed cold water on his face before bending over to take a few long slugs of water right from the faucet.</p>
<p>“Uncle Shane!” exclaimed Jas, running in to hug his leg. “Aunt Marnie says that’s bad.” </p>
<p>He looked down at the sweet girl and winked, then pulled a glass and the ibuprofen out of the cupboard. “Thanks, kiddo,” he answered, filling his glass, and gave her a little hug back.</p>
<p>Marnie walked in and asked about the trip, and he collapsed into a chair and caught her up on the goings on at the bar. They went back and forth on the finances for a few minutes before Marnie gasped. “Oh! Did I tell you? The new farmer’s moving in today.”</p>
<p>“Farmer?” he asked, refilling his glass at the sink.</p>
<p>“Yes! Up at Hillcrest. You remember little Gracie from all those years ago. She’s back to pick up the mantle. Isn’t that exciting!” Marnie clasped her hands together. “We should get her something. A welcome gift. What do you get for a farmer?” </p>
<p>Shane grunted. “We’re a ranch, right? So probably an animal. Dog would be a good start. Home security.”</p>
<p>Marnie shrieked. “Yes! I know just the one. Dave -- no, don’t give me that look, you met him, he was at the last county fair -- he’s got a mutt, but he’s got his hands full, and he was looking for a home. We’ll need food, and a leash, and--”</p>
<p>Marnie was on a roll, muttering and making little lists on scrap paper, and reaching for the phone to call Dave. Shane’s mind was occupied, so he wandered into the living room, still sipping his water. Jas was on the floor, surrounded by Aunt Marnie’s old family photo albums. They were her favorite books to flip through, and Marnie had told her the stories behind all the photos. She’d even slotted in a few of Pete and Jen. Jas grinned up at Shane, her front tooth still missing. It tugged on his heartstrings.</p>
<p>“Uncle Shane!” She pointed down at one of the albums. “Aunt Marnie said this is when you were my age. Do you think we would have been friends?”</p>
<p>He smiled widely. “Of course, Jas.” He looked down at the picture. He was so small and skinny, it was a wonder child services hadn’t intervened sooner. Marnie had her arms around him and the little girl from the farm, Gracie, in front of the pig pen. </p>
<p>The gears in his mind stopped turning as he looked at the photo of the girl with wild, wavy brown hair and a mess of freckles on her nose and arms. Grace, the farmer girl.</p>
<p>The farmer. The farmer. The farmer.</p>
<p>The girl on the bus. </p>
<p>The girl from the bar.</p>
<p>He dropped the water glass. It spilled all over the carpet, thankfully not on Marnie’s albums, but he got an earful anyways. Didn’t matter.</p>
<p>For the first time in a very long time, maybe in his life, he saw the different broken pieces of him as telling the belonging to one single story, that of a whole person. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she was a thread following his journey from the beginning, back where it started at the end. But he wouldn’t have minded if it was. </p>
<p>What would happen next? What could happen? He wondered what she was like. He thought about the beautiful young woman in tight dresses spinning circles around the dance floor at Pete’s, and the best childhood friend who showed him how to cut worms in half to make two, and he couldn’t reconcile them in his mind. He wanted to know more about her. How much had she changed? How much had he changed? And just like that, Shane had a little more hope in his future.</p>
<p>It’d always been a longshot. But maybe he had another chance at a good thing.</p>
<p>----------------------------</p>
<p>Outside the bar, the snow was coming down hard. They closed the Stardrop down again with ease, swapping jokes in poor taste and telling stories about adventures at Pete’s. His chest didn’t hurt when he talked about it, not with her. Grace’s ugly laugh cut through the noise over Gus’s tinny jukebox and it made Shane’s heart swell. He hadn’t let himself feel this free in years.</p>
<p>Finally, Emily signalled that it was time to pack up and go home. Shane was on his feet in a heartbeat, holding Grace’s puffy coat so she could slide into it. She looked up at him in surprise, her nose still red from her cold and her cheeks flushed from laughing. She slipped her arms in and zipped up while he pulled on his own jacket and left a few bills on the table. They stepped out the door and into the cold winter night.</p>
<p>Outside, under the streetlight, Grace smiled up at the falling snow in surprise, closing her eyes and letting the flakes melt onto her skin. Shane’s hands were deep in his pockets, and he felt as dark of a shadow as usual, but she was radiant in the light. He found the courage to tug one hand out and draw his thumb over her cheek, sliding the water off her freckled cheekbone. </p>
<p>Her eyes opened and gazed into his own, and her lips parted. “What’s next, Shane?” she asked, a little breathless. She didn’t know it, but she was voicing the question he’d asked himself nearly a thousand times since she’d come to town.</p>
<p>“Whatever we want,” he heard himself say, in a voice not quite his own. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it.</p>
<p>Under the streetlight, the snow whispering as it fell and pooled around them, he leaned down as she leaned up, and heat bloomed where their lips met.</p>
<p>He was falling, headfirst, and he fucking loved it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dilf tag -- https://starryeyesforstardewvalley.tumblr.com/tagged/husband-material</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. She Knows What I Think About</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>NSFW chapter!! Proceed with caution</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They carved a path back to the ranch through the thick snow, illuminated by the moon. It was the dead of night. The only sounds were of the river water lapping the shore, the forest trees quaking in the winter breeze, and their muffled whispers and giggles.</p><p>Every few steps, Shane would scoop Grace up into a kiss, or she’d throw herself into him, until they tumbled into a snowdrift. They heaved themselves up and she brushed the snow off of him gently. Then she turned, and he smacked the snow off her butt with a laugh. Grace spun and got him over the head with a gloveful of snow. Then they were back tumbling on the ground, the snow piles cushy and welcoming.</p><p>They lay for a moment, just panting. His cheeks were ruddy and flushed from more than just the cold, and she felt hers burning, too. Snowflakes clung to the tips of his dark eyelashes. His dark eyes, chocolate and sweet, gazed out at her. She couldn’t look away. They shared a deep breath and exhaled in time with the night breeze. Grace didn’t realize it at first, but Shane had her hand in a vice grip. She used it to pull him in for a kiss that warmed her to the tips of her toes.</p><p>Eventually, though, it occurred to both of them that as comfortable their bed of snow was, their beds at the ranch house held far more promise.</p><p>Shane heaved himself up and yanked Grace to her feet. The rest of their walk, they were all loose limbs and wandering hands, tangled up in each other and stumbling through the dark.</p><p>They paused outside the ranch house. Shane gently pressed her back against the front door, one hand on her waist and one on the wood next to her head. His breath was foggy in the frigid night, his lips slightly parted.</p><p>She snapped a mental picture: his full face, the taste of alcohol on her lips and his, and his curls dampened by the snow. Behind him, the barn tucked into the edge of the forest, the trees’ shadows carving love letters into the forest floor, and beyond that, the glint of moonlight off the lake. Grace never felt more at home in Pelican Town than here, between his arms.</p><p>Shane gently leaned in, surprising her with a soft kiss on her cheek. It sent heat radiating down her spine to her core and she closed her eyes. His lips found her ear. “What do you want to happen next?”</p><p>His mouth brushed her jaw, right at the corner where it met her neck, and he drew promises with his lips down to her shoulder until the collar of her jacket stopped him. Then he pulled away. Grace opened her eyes to find him waiting.</p><p>“Everything,” she breathed. “Anything. I...I want you. Now.” She saw his cheeks, pink from the cold, flush darker, and he took a deep, shaky breath.</p><p>“Then we have to be quiet,” he finally said, squeezing her ribs with the hand still on her waist. Then he pulled out his key and unlocked the door behind her back, and they fell inside. </p><p>The pair stopped to shed their snow boots, gloves, scarves and jackets. Marnie’s and Jas’s rooms were both on this floor, as well as Shane’s, and they had to keep shushing each other after each tipsy giggle.</p><p>Sitting on a floor, tugging off a boot, Grace looked up at Shane and whispered, “Your room or mine?”</p><p>Shane eased the hall closet shut with a wince as the hinges squeaked. “Yours,” he whispered back. “Jas usually sleeps in mine.”</p><p>Grace hadn’t expected that. The moonlight trickling into the window behind Shane’s head framed a faint halo. He extended a hand and pulled her to her feet, and she swiftly pecked a kiss on his cheek, lost for words.</p><p>Finally, free of their winter garb, Shane grabbed Grace’s waist and drove her towards the stairs up to the guest room. She grabbed the railing with both hands to stop herself on the first step and he bumped into her from behind with a quiet “oof.” Then she spun, grabbed his face, and smashed it into hers. </p><p>He gave a breathy moan and kissed back harder. All restraints from earlier in the night, their chaste kisses in the snow and outside the Stardrop Saloon, were abandoned. Shane molded her mouth into his, and as he licked in with his tongue, heaved her up in his arms. Grace threw hers over his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. She let her hands wander over his broad shoulders and his back and his biceps, while he carried her up the stairs with ease. Under that damn zip-up he hid under, he was built like a tank.</p><p>He pulled his mouth away from hers at the top of the stairs and she moved to kiss his jaw and his neck, relishing his stubble. All these months later and she had the answer: it was soft and scratchy and perfect.</p><p>Quietly, he let them into the room and shut the door behind them before tossing her unceremoniously onto the bed. It squeaked dangerously. Grace barked a laugh in surprise and he grinned. “That’s not very quiet of you,” she whispered fiercely. </p><p>He moved onto the bed, leaning on his elbows over her face to cage her in. “Worth it,” he breathed into her mouth. “Just to hear you laugh.” Then he sealed it with a kiss.</p><p>He started to pull away, but Grace grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back into her. Their bodies connected completely, no bulky winter gear between them, and she was pleased to find their every curve fit together neatly. </p><p>She crushed her mouth against his and he groaned. She felt it rumble in his chest, his body pressed harder against hers, and she angled her hips carefully before kissing him again, and again, and again.</p><p>Shane groaned again and swept one hand into her hair, his strong fingers cupping her head as he pulled her into him. She licked into his mouth and ran one hand down the front of his chest. </p><p>Finally she gasped for air, pulling back, and looked into his half-lidded eyes, burning with desire and something sweeter. Shane just took her in for a moment, then said quietly, “You really surprise me sometimes.”</p><p>His voice, his blatant desire, set her on fire. Grace flipped him over on the bed and rolled over to straddle him. Shane looked surprised for a moment, but then broke into a smile. He ran his hands up and down her thighs while she gazed down at him. His hands paused, thumbs rolling soft circles where her thighs met her hips.</p><p>She slid her hands up his stomach and chest, over his damned blue hoodie, until they rested on his shoulders, and she pulled herself close. With her lips against his ear, she whispered, “Do you like being surprised?” Then she ran her tongue up his jaw and kissed his earlobe.</p><p>Shane’s breath caught and his fingers sank into her soft thighs. He shifted his hands back to her ass and squeezed -- hard.</p><p>“Yes,” he answered, in a voice so deep she could feel it. She pulled back to look in his eyes and was thrilled to see how tense he was with need. It was killing him not to make any more noise. </p><p>He squeezed her ass again, and Grace gave him a sly look. His jeans were tented, and she shifted slightly forward until she was centered over him. His hands stilled, and they looked at each other for a moment with care. Then she leaned in and placed her lips on his as she ground down on his hips.</p><p>Shane moaned into her mouth, choked and desperate, and pulled her forward and to guide her down again. He was rock hard against the seam of her sweatpants, and she stifled a noise. He captured her lips again and licked into her mouth as he guided her down again.</p><p>She wrapped her hands around his neck and face, and they ground on each other in a slow rhythm, broken by increasingly desperate sounds.</p><p>“Grace, I…” breathed Shane. She leaned down to gently suck his neck and felt him twitch underneath her, and the heat in her stomach dropped lower. His hands moved up to her lower back until they were just under her shirt. “Grace, I want… I want to…” She kissed his jawline and relished the scrape of his stubble as she rocked on him, and she felt him twitch again. He let out another poorly stifled groan. “I want you, all of you, tonight,” he choked out. “What do you want?”</p><p>It occurred to her that while she’d been wondering about him for a few months, he’d wanted her for years. It sent lightning through her nerves, making her bold.</p><p>She stopped moving and put her hands on his arms, then ran them up to meet his hands. She pulled one off her and slowly kissed each finger, locked into his chocolate eyes, heavy with lust. When she got to his index finger, she kissed the tip, then pulled it into her mouth, licking it, and punctuating it by grinding down hard on his dick. Shane threw his head back, his back arched, tendons standing out on his neck from the effort to stay quiet.</p><p>She tossed his hand aside and tugged her shirt off. “I want you, Shane.” She peeled off her bra. “I really do.” He came to his senses and pulled her down close, her bare chest against his sweatshirt. They kissed hungrily for a moment before she slid a hand under his sweatshirt.</p><p>Shane paused, and she could feel him tense up under her. She pulled back enough to look at him, but his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. Her hand was resting on the broadest curve of his belly. “I want all of you, you know,” she said quietly. Then she ran a finger under his chin, tilting his head up, and bent down to kiss it gently. She disentangled her hand and used both to slowly pull his zipper down. At the bottom, she held it gently but waited for his permission. With a small sigh, he brought his hands up to guide hers to open the sweatshirt, leaving his torso exposed, t-shirt still on.</p><p>“Even just a year ago,” he whispered, still not looking quite at her, “You wouldn’t have had to settle for this.” His shame burned right on the surface.</p><p>Grace gently tugged his arms out of the hoodie and slid her hands up under his shirt, loving his soft belly and broad chest. “I want all of you,” she repeated. “I’m not settling for anything. I want you, just the way you are.” And then she tugged on the hem of his shirt.</p><p>Catching the hint, he sat up and pulled it off. Grace bit her lip hard. She had been right. His chest hair went all the way down.</p><p>When she looked at his face again, his cheeks were still pink, but he was hungrily watching her look him over. She ran a finger down the center of his chest, over his paunch, to pause hooking it over the edge of his jeans.</p><p>It was all the permission Shane needed to take over. He pinned her on her back on the bed, ignoring the loud creaking from the old frame. Grace huffed a laugh. “Aren’t we supposed to stay quiet?” she asked in a mocking whisper. His lips met her neck, then her collarbone, then her left nipple, then her right, then her stomach. His stubble tickled and he was moving quickly, intentionally.</p><p>But then he looked up, lips flushed. “Good fucking luck,” he whispered, then swiftly tugged her sweatpants and underwear off. She was bare in front of him, and he paused, taking in the view.</p><p>Then Shane was back to business, planting a soft kiss punctuated with a small bite on her inner thigh. Grace gasped and clenched the sheets. He wrapped a hand around her thigh, looking up with a wicked smile. “Shh,” he whispered, before sliding his other hand between her legs to rub her clit. </p><p>Grace strained with the effort not to make noise. But his fingers were heaven. And she was so fucking wet. He teased and flicked, alternating between watching her respond to his touch and kissing her thighs sweetly. Then he slid a finger in.</p><p>Grace audibly gasped and tensed, knotting the sheets in her fists. Shane paused and gave her a sly smile before inserting another. He started to move his fingers. Suddenly he curled them, and Grace gasped. He began to move his fingers faster, hitting the sensitive spot that made Grace’s toes curl, until he couldn’t stand the need sparkling in her eyes.</p><p>Shane quickly moved down until his mouth was on her, and with his first kiss, Grace gave a moan. He pinched her thigh -- “Quiet, remember?” -- before kissing more deeply, then starting to lick her clit. She put her hand over her mouth and felt an ache start to build deep inside of her. Shane kept kissing and licking, matching the pace with his fingers.</p><p>She bit her fist, trying to stay quiet, but just gasping louder and louder until she was nearly crying his name. “Shane, please -- oh -- Shane!” He paused while she released with a tremendous shudder, tension and passion and heat all over. Then he drew himself up to her again and kissed her gently. When she regained her breath, she leaned up and kissed him -- hard.</p><p>“Take these off right now,” she whispered into his mouth, tugging at his pants. Dutifully, Shane stepped back and shed his layers, before positioning himself over her again. Skin met skin and they paused, feeling the moment and admiring each other.</p><p>Finally, Shane murmured, “Do you...?” And he trailed off, looking away. He wavered so strongly between confident and insecure, and it made Grace ache inside to know that despite everything, he still didn’t believe she wanted to be in this bed with him.</p><p>“I want you,” she said firmly, holding his face in her hands. She felt him against her thigh. Grace propped herself up on her side and moved one hand down his body. He closed his eyes as she held him and started moving her hand along his shaft. She started slow, and kissing his lips gently.</p><p>“You want me.” He was stating it. He just kept stating it. “You really mean it.” Shane’s eyes were closed. She tightened her grip and started moving her hand just a little faster. He made a small “mm” sound and wrinkles appeared on his forehead. She stopped and his eyes opened.</p><p>“Shane,” she said quietly. “Is everything okay?” He nodded and leaned in to kiss her. He started slow, then kissed harder, licking her mouth open and biting her lip.</p><p>“I just…” he started, then scooped an arm under her back and pulled her roughly under him again. “I just don’t think I’ll last.” He looked at her carefully, searching for forgiveness. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. He pushed against her lips, and she felt him twitch against her inner thigh. Heat started pooling in her stomach again, and she ached with need.</p><p>“That’s okay, Shane, I promise. Do you still want to…” Grace started, before Shane kissed her firmly, then made his way down her neck again.</p><p>“Yes, yes,” he moaned between kisses. “I do.” He was trying to catch his breath, trying to focus, but she could tell he was wavering on the edge of his control, and she wanted to make him lose it.</p><p>“Can you fuck me quietly?” she asked in a low tone. She felt him twitch again against her thigh. “I mean, really fuck me?” Shane pulled himself off her neck and locked at her, his eyes dark. His hands scooped under her thighs and he shifted her so they were lined up.</p><p>He leaned in and whispered into her ear, stubble tickling. “You won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”</p><p>Grace wound her fingers into his hair. “Make me see stars.” She rocked up slightly, and his tip pressed barely in. Shane buried his face into her neck and bit down, hard.</p><p>“Remember,” he whispered, coming back up to look into her eyes. “Be quiet.” It was a reminder to both of them.</p><p>He held her eyes in his as he pushed slowly into her, until he filled her and his body was flush against hers. Grace choked out a gasp, and Shane started to move slowly. </p><p>He was huge, and he was so tight inside her, and she knew she’d be sore in the morning, but she rocked up to meet him, and he started to move more eagerly. She felt a wave of pleasure and groaned.</p><p>“Shane…” she started. “Oh fuck, please…” Each of his thrusts was punctuated with a small gasp. She felt pressure building, and each time their hips met she felt another wave through her body.</p><p>Shane started to move a little faster, fucking her a little harder. Her gasps gave way to a small cry. “Quiet,” he begged. He put an arm next to her head, the other pulling her thigh up as he twisted slightly, then started into her at the perfect angle. </p><p>“Oh! Oh, fuck,” Grace cried, feeling herself unwind. Fuck, she was so close. She wanted to scream. Suddenly his hand was on her mouth. Shane’s chest was beaded with sweat, and he was grunting with each thrust.</p><p>“Shh,” he warned, then started moving faster. Grace pressed a hand against the headboard and stifled every moan of pleasure into his strong hand. His hips were slamming into hers hard. Shane’s chest was beaded with sweat, and his breath was shaky.</p><p>She needed more. She wrapped her legs behind his and drew one hand down to scratch his back in desperation. “Fuck, Grace, I… I’m going…” he gasped. She nodded. He removed his hand and slammed his lips into hers.</p><p>He was losing control -- she was so close. His thrusts were fast and frantic, and he was pounding into her. Grace was unwinding, she felt herself start to shake, just a little harder, she was so close--</p><p>With a gasp, he drove into her and she rose to meet him, and they both choked down screams of pleasure. Grace was shaking as her orgasm ran over her body in waves. She felt Shane twitch inside her once, twice -- and then he pulled out and collapsed, and they lay together, sweaty and gasping.</p><p>They stayed down, catching their breath for minutes that felt like hours. He rested his head on her, and eventually wrapped his arms around her waist. Grace absently stroked his hair.</p><p>“Sorry.” His voice was muffled against her chest, between her breasts. She almost didn’t hear it at first. “That was over sooner than it should’ve been. It’s just been so long.”</p><p>She huffed a small laugh. “No, Shane. You were amazing.” They lay in the silence a few moments longer. Grace admired his backside, illuminated by the moonlight glaring through the window. Their skin was glued together with sweat and fluids, and she could hardly tell where she ended and he began. “We’ll take it twice as slow next time,” she promised. </p><p>He raised his head slightly to kiss her stomach, then met her eyes. His face was damp and flushed, and softened with bliss. Grace put her finger in the dimple in his chin, and he smiled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.</p><p>“There’s a gridball game in the city next weekend,” he said. “Come with me.”</p><p>Grace nodded, and he lay back down. He settled into a more comfortable position laying on her, then reached back and pulled the blanket over them. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured into her stomach, already sounding sleepy.</p><p>She knotted her fingers again in his hair, closed her eyes, and smiled.</p>
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